


you're a hard soul to save

by WeAreNotAlone



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Adora has her own Secrets, Adora is a Detective, Also Dumbass Catra, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Catra is a Rich Ass Singer, Catra is secretly in love with Adora, Drama, Dumbass Adora, Except Adora, F/F, Jock Adora (She-Ra), Mutual Pining, Their Hearts are Horny, They're so in love it's disgusting, They're stupid your honor, but everyone knows, kiss already, no beta we die like unsuspecting maids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeAreNotAlone/pseuds/WeAreNotAlone
Summary: "You heard me.  It's over.  I'm done with you.""W-wait.  Hold on, hold on- can't we just- can I just call you when I get there and we can sort this all out?""Don't call me, Adora.""But- but I- why are you doing this?""Because I fucking hate you!"It's been years since Adora left Catra to suffer alone under Weaver's thumb, and despite the saying that time heals all wounds, it has clearly scarred over into every moment of their lives.  Adora lives with that guilt every day and copes by throwing herself into her work; she wasn't there for Catra when she needed her, but Adora will go to her grave making sure she never makes that mistake again.Catra isn't faring any better.  How could she when the one person she had been in love with for over half her life left her behind?  Yes, fame and fortune has it's perks, but none of that matters to her if she can't have Adora to share it with.When a new case brings the two together again after so many years apart, its hard.  They're going to have to work for it.  And with the looming dangers of the case hanging over them, it might prove to be an impossible task.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 137





	1. where in this wide world is there one who can compare (to my own true love)

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have another story that I haven't finished but.............. yeah actually I have no excuse. I just watched Prisoners (2013) and now I'm kinda obsessed. I kinda fell in love with the idea of Adora being a hot shot detective who literally works herself to death and is a hot mess while Catra is living the high life but is also a hot mess. Then when you put them together, their messes cancel each other out! Eventually.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: There will be some dark themes in this story. In this chapter there is a vague-ish sex scene and a VERY brief insinuation of sexual assault and a mention of suicide.
> 
> P.S. I wrote this instead of studying for my skull identification lab so... Jeff, if you're reading this you'll never know how sorry I am.
> 
> P.P.S. The title is from a song called Bonny Light Horseman. I don't know why, but the song gave me major 'glory and gore' vibes, a beautiful story by brightbolt and NSFWAdora. You should highkey read that story. Seriously. Read it.

**august, present day: catra**

It was an uncharacteristically cool night in August and Catra had just finished the last concert of her tour- well, her band’s tour- and she was exhausted. Her eyes were bloodshot from the intense spotlight that she had been under. Her ears were still ringing from the crowd’s literal deafening screams despite wearing top notch ear pieces to block that out. Her voice felt raw from singing for two hours straight. It had been a long night, hell, a long six months. Honestly, she was just looking for the nearest sofa to pass out on, but _of course_ Weaver had other plans. She just loved fucking with Catra, making her life miserable every chance she got. As The Horde’s manager, she could just conceal her actions under the guise of _it’s what’s best for the band_ or _it’s good for publicity_. Somehow, what’s best for the band almost always turned out to be what was worst for Catra.

So that was how she ended up at a party, leaning against the doorway leading out to the massive pool in the massive backyard that some millionaire owned, watching her bandmates having the time of their lives. Scorpia, Lonnie, and Rogelio were in the pool playing chicken with Rogelio’s boyfriend Kyle. Scorpia and Lonnie were winning of course. Kyle was as weak as they come, though Catra supposed he was nice enough. He was certainly good for Rogelio, keeping him grounded in all of this… chaos.

Lonnie and Scorpia could use someone like that. Maybe then, Lonnie wouldn’t be such a bitch. Maybe then, Scorpia wouldn’t be so obviously head over heels for Catra, just adding another layer of anxiety to the already raging shitshow that was her life. Oh yes, Catra was well aware of Scorpia’s infatuation. Pretty much the whole world was. Half their fanbase was dedicated to getting the two of them together, spending what must be hours of their day analyzing every single contact they had with each other; the way Scorpia looked at Catra during their set, the way they hugged afterwards, the way they hung out at each other's houses. 

One time, Catra’s fingers brushed Scorpia’s arm as she reached for some french fries at a McDonald’s and someone took a picture and captioned it: _Catra can’t seem to stop groping Scorpia’s impressive biceps- get it girl! #Scorptra._ Her entire life was under a microscope, just waiting to be dissected and inspected. And Weaver encouraged all of it.

“Hey there hot stuff.”

Catra turned. A young and _very_ attractive woman had come up behind her, dragging her fingertips down the expanse of Catra’s arm. A model, probably. Catra had spent a fair share of her time _becoming familiar_ with models. She had also spent a fair share of time sneaking away in the morning after a night in the sheets.

“Hey,” Catra responded through pursed lips, reining in the urge to let her ears flatten against her skull and her tail lash behind her. She wasn’t entirely ready to flat out reject the girl, she at least had the decency for that. But her patience was quickly falling to an all time low and she had her exhaustion to thank. Not that she had a huge patience threshold anyways.

“What are you doing moping around? Aren’t you supposed to be having fun?” the woman asked. She had swung around to stand before her, hooking her fingers into the front of Catra’s jeans and tugging her closer. Catra didn’t mind so much, but that didn’t change the fact that she was tired as fuck and too worn out for this overdone mating ritual. She was just about to turn her down when someone else decided to join their little club.

“There you are Catra. I have been looking all over for you.” It was Adam, another top-notch singer who had the pleasure of recording a couple of songs with her band. Catra groaned internally, adding him to the growing list of people she didn’t want to talk to tonight. He handed Catra a glass of- well, she wasn’t sure, but she took it anyways. “Sorry hun, but Catra and I need to discuss business. If you don’t mind…” He gestured to the rest of the party. The woman glared at him before releasing her hold on Catra and winking at her.

“Well, if you go looking for some of that fun I mentioned, I’ll be around,” she said over her shoulder, swaying her hips provocatively. A few years ago that might have made Catra blush, but now? She was used to it. And Catra was well aware of her own assets. She was desirable, and not just because she was filthy rich or could "sing like an angel on steroids", according to the _New York Times_. She may have been awkward and scrawny in highschool, but now she practically ran the show. The rest of the world seemed to notice that too. The world was, after all, pretty much wrapped around her finger. 

Catra raised her glass to that, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” As she walked away, Catra took a sip of her glass. It was a rum and coke. Of course he still knew her favorite drink. Or maybe it was just dumb luck.

“You looked like you needed saving,” Adam said humorously, taking a sip of his own drink. Catra scowled. Her ears twitched back.

“Or maybe you were just looking for someone to save. I can take care of myself,” she hissed. 

Adam threw a hand up in mock surrender, “Whoa there, tiger. No need to get all defensive.”

“Just because we did, like, one song together doesn't mean you know me.”

Adam tisked at her, “I’d disagree. Music is a way of baring your soul to people. And if I recall correctly, you bared more than just your soul to me after the night we finished our collab.” He gave her that shit-eating grin that reminded her of another blonde idiot she knew. Or, used to know. She shoved that thought away as quickly as it came, but it was too late. Her mood was already soured, even more so than before.

“Jesus, you are as annoying as you are ugly,” Catra sneered. She threw back the rest of her drink, perfectly aware of how foul those words were. Adam raised a brow, but was otherwise undeterred. He was used to her unpleasant remarks. After a while, it just became water over rocks. The cruelty slid right past.

“Sure, but you're still the one who came onto me. And _came onto me._ Twice if I recall.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Want to make it a third?” _I was in heat and desperate for release_ is what Catra wanted to say, but he already knew that at the time. Adam was just being a little shit, a quality she had come to both appreciate in the human and absolutely loathe. Catra’s tail stopped lashing behind her. She decided to appreciate it tonight.

“God, your pick up lines are awful,” Catra said, a hint of mirth in her voice. Despite herself, she still found him a _little_ funny.

“Am I hearing a no? That doesn’t sound like a no.” Adam mirrored her position against the doorframe, delicately taking her empty glass from her. He dipped his head, catching her eye. Catra briefly wondered if Adora would have to do that now, if she had grown in their years apart and would now have to duck down to meet her gaze. She shivered. 

_Fuck me_ , Catra thought. Adam reminded Catra too much of her, from his delicate hands, to his blonde hair, to his blue eyes. Sure, they weren’t as blue as Adora’s, no one else in the _world_ held the entire ocean in their eyes, but it was close enough. Close enough that Catra could pretend it was her.

“Look, Adam,” Catra sighed. “I’m tired. The only reason I’m here is because my manager is forcing me to be.” Adam nodded his understanding, seemingly disappointed as he scanned the crowds of rich assholes drinking and dancing themselves into a coma. Then he turned to Catra like an idea suddenly popped into his mind.

“Well… you wouldn't have to do any of the work,” He said, voice low and full of desire.

Catra bit her lip, considering her options. It had been a long while since she had let off some steam and yeah, she was tired, but if she didn’t have to do any of the work…

Within minutes, they were upstairs, stripping each other of their clothes with feverish need. After a quick slamming of Adam's bedroom door and an even quicker fumbling over to the bed, Catra had Adam moaning her name. She wished it was someone else. She wished it was Adora. 

“Oh fuck, you feel so good,” Adam gasped. She pretended it was someone else telling her that. Pretended it was someone else inside of her, pressing her to the mattress, bringing her to climax. She always pretended. It wasn’t so hard with Adam, but there was still enough distance there to keep her from falling for him. And as much as she wanted to pretend he _was_ Adora, at the same time she was grateful she couldn't quite believe it. Because she wanted that distance. She _needed_ it. Because Adora had left her, hadn’t she? Left her to rot under the thumb of Weaver while she went off to play house with her new family. 

Nothing before had ever cut her deeper than the moment she decided to leave. And nothing had cut her deeper since. She still carried that wound around, peeling it open again and again, then nursing it like it was a wounded animal. She liked the pain, the ache of that loss. It was all she had left of her.

She could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She shoved her face into the mattress, ripping the sheets with her claws. Once again, she had been brought to tears by the mere thought of her. _No_ , Catra thought. She refused to cry. She was _supposed_ to be enjoying herself. Catra raised her hips as much as she could with Adam pinning her down and cantered back roughly.

“ _Fuck,_ Catra,” Adam groaned. Catra smirked as his hips stuttered.

“Off,” she all but commanded. Adam obeyed. As he sat back on his heels, Catra turned and shoved him into the bed almost violently, planting her hands on his chest and riding him hard.

“ _Catra,_ ” he said again, speaking her name like it was a prayer. Catra let a smug smile form on her face as she watched him come undone beneath her. She liked that she could always get the reaction she desired- not just during sex, but in every situation. Practically everyone yielded to her, becoming a malleable sheet of pliable metal that molded themselves to her will. Catra loved it. She craved that feeling of control. 

She never had that with Adora. 

Catra couldn’t even control _herself_ around Adora.

Adora was so different from everyone else in so many ways. She wasn’t concerned with trivial things like money, fame, sex, or power. She navigated her life by different rules ever since they were kids, rules that Catra had yet to understand. Rules that she would probably never get to understand because she was _gone._

When Catra’s band- The Horde, appropriately named- had first taken off and they had signed with a hot shot record label, Catra honestly thought she could drown her sorrow in her fame and fortune, or at least beat it back into a dark recess of her mind. It worked for awhile. With enough booze, girls, and the occasional man, quite literally anything will work. She was almost able to forget about the fist sized hole in her chest. Almost.

Then she saw Adora on TV. 

Two years. Two years of filling that hole with alcohol and pussy and all it took was a glimpse of her on a screen to send her spiralling once again. (Not that she wasn’t already). 

It had happened during a sleepover at Scorpia’s place. Scorpia and her were watching some shitty live-action Disney remake at Scorpia’s behest when Lonnie called and told them to check the news. The case had been huge at the time; three teenage girls kidnapped in broad daylight and missing for almost three weeks? Yeah, it was big. And when a couple of detectives _found_ the three teens? It blew up. 

But that’s not what made Catra’s heart jump in her chest or anger flood her veins. No, it was seeing _Adora_ on screen that pushed her off the ledge and into a boiling pot of fury. When Catra saw Adora’s picture light up the display, her stupidly perfect face captured on camera, she immediately got up to leave, not even bothering to hear the rest of the story. Scorpia protested incessantly while she shrugged on her coat, but none of her pleas reached Catra’s ears. She slammed the door in Scorpia’s face and drove to meet up with whatever nameless broad she had been dating at the time so they could fuck eachother’s brains out. It was some of the weirdest and most rewarding sex she ever had. Catra broke up with her the next morning.

It wasn’t until a few days later that she found out Adora had been shot and almost died. That was when Catra broke down crying on her kitchen floor, heart aching and hating herself for being such a disgusting piece of shit. Scorpia tried to comfort her, saying _you didn’t know_ and _it’s not your fault_ , but it _was_ . She hadn’t seen or heard from Adora in nearly three years and when she finally did, it was because she had saved some kids and almost died in the process. And Catra had the audacity to hate her for it. She knew it was illogical, but _how dare she put her life at risk?_ Catra wanted to kill her for almost dying. It wasn’t fair. It was hard enough living in a world without Adora by her side. Living in a world without Adora _at all_ was unacceptable. 

“Oh- I’m gonna- I-” Adam stuttered out. “Where do you-”

“Inside,” Catra demanded. She didn’t know what possessed her to say that. All she knew was that she was in the mood to play dice, maybe fuck up her life a bit more. He seized up, going rigid underneath her, before going limp.

“Fuck, Catra,” he said as he finished. He collapsed beneath her, hands falling from her hips as he sunk into the mattress. Catra patted Adam on the chest before rolling off and laying beside him.

“You just did,” Catra responded, a little breathless. Adam chuckled, turning on his side to face Catra and wrapping an arm around her waist. His hand carded through the fur on her toned stomach, touch soft and comforting, and Catra decided she didn’t like it. Only one person was allowed to touch her like that, and he wasn’t that person. She was about to tell him off when Adam blurted something she thought she’d never hear, least of all from his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered, eyes fluttering shut. Catra wasn’t sure if that was the post-sex endorphins talking or something else, but- but no one had ever said that to her. Not once. Not even-

“I love you too.” It was surprisingly easy to let the lie roll off her tongue. _I guess it’s_ _easy to pretend you love someone when the person you really want isn’t there for you_. Though Catra supposed she only had herself to blame for that.

**august, freshman year of high school: adora**

“Catra!” Adora yelled, flinging their bedroom door open. She needed to tell Catra the good news asap, and there was a really good chance she was loitering in here to avoid Ms. Weaver. Sure enough, there she was, sprawled out on Adora's bed, wearing Adora’s favorite hoodie (a black Fleetwood Mac sweatshirt Adora had gotten for her birthday two years ago), highlighting something in a book. She didn’t look the least bit startled at the disheveled blonde throwing open their door as she calmly looked up from her work.

“Catra!” Adora said again, throwing her door closed. It slammed shut with a loud thud and one of Catra’s ears twitched. _Oops_. “You’re not going to believe what just happened.”

Catra raised a brow at Adora’s sweaty appearance, “Did you take a shower in your sweat? Because you smell of something and it ain't roses.” Adora couldn’t hear her over her own excitement.

“Catra, I made the team!”

“For what?”

“Football!” Adora explained, throwing her hands in the air.

“... I see.” Was Catra’s response. She went back to her work, eyes glazing over the pages of Romeo and Juliet. “You better not miss practice,” Catra added without looking up. Her tone was neutral, but Adora sensed a tension there. For one reason or another, she was treading on some thin ice right now.

“Yeah about that…” Adora scratched the back of her neck nervously and moved to sit on the edge of the bed with caution. “Football practice is at the same time as our band’s. Do you think you could convince the others to come over after I get back from football?”

Catra sent Adora an incredulous look and threw down the Shakespeare play. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Adora met her gaze hesitantly and bit the inside of her cheek, tapping her fingers on her thigh in sets of three. Was this a trick question?

“... No?” Adora replied, her answer sounding more like a question. Catra went silent, glaring daggers at Adora, those heterochromatic eyes piercing her soul. It was a look Adora knew well, a sort of challenge that Adora rarely had the guts to rise to. She decided to try her luck this time. She scooted closer to Catra, leaning in close enough to smell her perfume; it was something sweet, like vanilla, but Adora couldn’t quite place it.

“Is that a… yes?” Adora gave her puppy dog eyes and tilted her head, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them to complete the look. Her begging almost always worked on Catra, no matter how ridiculous the request. Most of the time, it made Adora feel guilty, so she only used it when absolutely necessary. Like when she was in a time crunch and needed Catra to cover for her. Like now.

Catra rolled her eyes and pushed at her shoulders playfully, not nearly hard enough to have any real effect. “Get off me. You’re disgusting.”

“Pretty please?” Adora asked again, buttering up her words. She leaned in closer, her weight held up only by Catra’s hands splayed on her collarbone. Adora hoped she couldn’t feel the heavy drone of her heart beating through the thin material of her shirt. Though if she did, she could have just blamed it on the fact that she ran all the way home from school after a rigorous tryout.

Adora thought she saw a blush tinge Catra’s cheeks as she refused to look Adora in the eye, “Ugh, fine. Now get off me.”

“Thank you!” Adora beamed. She rolled off Catra, but not before placing a hard kiss to the side of her cheek. Catra let out a surprised trill that died in her throat as soon as she realized what she did. Adora covered up the laugh bubbling in her throat by a well time cough into her fist, but she could do nothing to hide her amused smile.

“You’re welcome,” Catra grumbled, pulling the hood over her head, most likely to hide her embarrassment. Adora shimmied up the bed to sit next to Catra against the headboard, trying not to smile at the cute noise Catra just made. 

“What are you doing?” Catra asked from under the hood.

“Sitting in my bed?”

“Oh, fuck no. You are not allowed back on this bed until you take a shower.”

“But-”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I smell?” Adora asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes, that is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you.” To prove her point, Catra scooted to the far side of the bed, as far away from Adora as possible without ending up on the floor.

“Are you sure?” Adora asked, a sly smile forming on her face. “Maybe you need a second whiff.”

“Don't. You. _Dare_ ,” Catra hissed, but Adora paid her no mind. She rushed Catra, who squealed and tried to bolt, but there was nowhere to go. Adora tackled her into the mattress, pressing her sweaty- and apparently smelly- body into Catra’s, wrapping her arms around her waist so she couldn’t escape.

“Disgusting!” Catra screamed, her hands shoving at Adora’s chest. “You’re getting my clothes all dirty!” Adora laughed and tightened her grip.

“Actually, this is _my_ hoodie,” Adora corrected, pulling the hood down over Catra’s face. She laughed as Catra struggled to pull the hood up from her eyes. 

That must have been the last straw for her because Catra then growled and flipped their positions. Anticipating this, Adora rolled with it and they kept rolling- a mess of flinging arms and legs- until they fell to the floor with a loud thud and a couple of yelps. The lamp and clock on the nightstand quickly followed them to the floor with a shattering noise. Not a second later, a chilling voice erupted from behind them both.

“Adora, Catra.” It was Weaver. The laughter instantly died, the light, cheery aura of the room dying along with it. Adora’s eyes went wide as she tried to turn around to face their foster mother- it proved a difficult task given that Catra was straddling her waist. “ This kind of behavior is unacceptable,” Weaver growled, scanning the mess the two of them had made.

“We were just having some fun,” Catra retorted, nearly hissing out the words. She put on a confident front, but years of experience told Adora that she was just as scared as she was. The way her ears pinned back against her skull and her tail lashed behind her all gave her away.

Adora touched Catra’s arm, a silent plea for her to keep that righteous anger at bay. She didn’t want Ms. Weaver leaving any more marks on Catra, especially not when it could be avoided. Catra’s eyes met hers and her expression softened, albeit fractionally.

“This is what you call fun? Breaking these things I so graciously buy for you and defiling Adora with your animalistic impulses?” Weaver roughly grabbed Catra by the arm and hauled her to her feet, pulling her off of Adora with a yelp. There was undeniable fear in the magicat’s eyes. “I should put you out like the animal you are.”

Adora scrambled to her feet, “Ms. Weaver, wait! It was my fault. We were-”

“That does not give Catra the right to do what she did,” Weaver snapped.

“But she didn’t do-”

“I will _not_ tolerate this kind of behavior under my roof, is that understood?” Weaver’s voice was low and deadly, and it made Adora shudder. She had heard that tone too many times, and it always meant trouble.

Adora nodded her head obediently, “Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

“I don't take this kind of insolence lightly,” Weaver continued. She turned on Catra, her grip tightening on her upper arm. Catra’s eyes watered from the pain. “You- you will take on all of Adora’s duties for tonight. After you're finished with chores and homework, then you will find me in my office. That should give me enough time to figure out a suitable punishment for you.” 

She released her grip on Catra, making her way towards the exit. For a moment, Adora thought she was going to get out of this scott free as she usually did, but then Weaver turned to her, placing a hand to her cheek. The touch itself was soft and gentle, but the look in Weaver’s eyes was anything but. They burned with a hunger Adora could not place, boring into her soul with an unmatched intensity. It made Adora feel uneasy and she had to resist the urge to shy away from the touch. 

“Adora,” Weaver began again, this time her tone much lighter. “You will clean yourself up and meet me in my office. If you have so much extra time you’re wasting it with this vermin, I think it's time to start adding extra lessons to your curriculum.” Then she took her leave. Weaver left the room cold and quiet in her wake.

Adora didn’t know what to think. She usually got out of things with Weaver, which only fed into her tremendous guilt when Catra came back to their room with cuts and bruises, but this? The way she watched her with that ravenous look… Adora would never admit it outloud, but she would take the guilt over the panic any day. What extra lessons was she talking about? If it was just a few added assignments, then why did she feel so scared?

She glanced around the room and her gaze landed on Catra, who was folding in on herself, arms encircling her waist and tail curling around her leg. _Selfish, selfish, selfish,_ Adora thought. She had no right to worry about herself getting extra homework when Catra was mere hours away from receiving a firm reprimand that would no doubt involve a good beating. Adora stumbled over to her.

“Catra, I’m so-” She tried reaching for her, but Catra shoved her hand away.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Catra nearly whispered, her voice cracking. It was hell for Adora to hear her like that. She needed to do _something_ to make it better.

“I’ll go talk to Weaver and explain that-”

“No!” Catra turned on her and snarled, baring her sharp teeth. Adora flinched, but didn’t back away from her. Upon seeing Adora’s recoil, Catra’s aggressive demeanor instantly fell away, replaced by one that closely resembled regret. They stood in silence for a breath or two until the tip of Catra’s tail brushed against Adora’s side, a clear invitation that the blonde readily accepted. She wrapped her arms around the magicat, holding her close and breathing in her wonderful scent. Adora briefly worried that Catra would be disgusted and pull away because she _did_ still have her workout clothes on and the magicat had an uncanny sense of smell, but all her worry was thrown out the window when Catra buried her hands into the fabric at the back of Adora’s shirt and her head into Adora’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” Catra mumbled against Adora’s neck, the vibrations sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine. Adora just hugged her tighter, bringing one hand up to pet along her wild mane as she rested her chin on Catra’s shoulder. Though Catra was much scrawnier, the magicat never let Adora forget that they were the same height. Most everywhere else, it was something that bothered Adora insistently, but in the moment, Adora couldn’t have cared less. They fit together perfectly just the way they were, like two puzzle pieces slotted together.

“We’re gonna get out of here one day,” Adora whispered. “It’ll be just the two of us. We’ll have a nice apartment on the East side of town, we’ll perform with our band, and… we’ll make enough money to afford you your own sweatshirt.”

She heard Catra snort at that, her tail whipping against Adora’s thigh, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This belongs to _me_.” She practically growled out the words as her grip tightened at the back of Adora’s shirt. For just a second, Adora forgot they were talking about the hoodie and her face flushed a deep red.

“If this thing is yours,” Adora retorted, plucking at the loose hoodie with her fingers, “then why do you look like you’re drowning in it when you wear it?” A snarl rumbled in Catra’s throat, but it lacked any real malice and only served to make Adora laugh. Because it really was enormous on her. Despite being the same height, Adora was still a few sizes ahead of her friend, making the coveted Fleetwood Mac hoodie look like a dress when Catra wore it.

“Whatever,” Catra said. “It’s the new look anyway.”

“Are you even wearing any shorts underneath that thing?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Adora mentally smacked herself. _That is not a question you ask your friend_ , Adora silently berated.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Catra peeled herself away from the hug just far enough to look Adora in the eye. She had a smug smile planted on her lips and one curved eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” was all she said. Her eyes shone with something vibrant and heated that Adora didn’t fully understand. Catra’s face was a hair's breadth from her own, and as Adora stared into those beautiful blue and amber eyes, she saw them flicker down. Catra bit her lip as her hands slid from Adora’s back to her waist, and waited.

And waited. 

Adora held her breath. 

She had no idea what Catra was thinking or what was going on, but she decided that she liked it. She wanted _more_.

But because Adora never got what she wanted, Catra took that very moment to pull away completely, leaving Adora feeling blindsided.

“You should… probably go shower,” Catra suggested, not meeting Adora’s eye. Her ears were down as she slumped back onto Adora’s bed, shoulders sagging a little. “Don’t want to keep Shadow Weaver waiting.”

Adora scratched the back of her head, still a bit confused about the one-eighty Catra just pulled, “Y-yeah. Right. Yes. I'll get right on that.” She gathered a new set of clothes from her dresser, fumbling the whole way because she could _feel_ Catra’s gaze on her back. Just as she was about to head out of the door, Catra spoke to her for the last time that day.

“Do you think we can really get out of here together?” Catra’s voice was small and quiet. “I mean- no one’s ever gonna want me. And parents- well, _everyone-_ loves you. Sooner or later, someone is going to take you from here and I won’t-”

“Catra, I’m not leaving you. Not for _anything_. They would have to drag me out, kicking and screaming,” Adora affirmed. She felt a little stupid saying such important things while she awkwardly stood in the doorway holding a bundle of clothes under one arm, but the way Catra smiled at her made the awkwardness fade into the background.

“Promise?” Catra whispered.

“I promise,” Adora whispered back.

**august, present day: adora**

Adora slammed the door of her car closed, muttering to herself. Another failed date. Another waste of time. She breathed in the cool August air, taking a moment to glare up at the half shadowed moon hanging in the sky like it was the giant sky rock’s fault her night fell apart. It wasn’t, of course. The blame fell solely on Adora. She sighed and locked her car, traipsing through the empty parking lot before pushing her way through the doors of the bar and grill.

She spotted Perfuma behind the bar, wiping down the counter. Most of the dining tables had already been cleaned along with the chairs, which were neatly stacked on top. Perfuma glanced up as Adora approached.

“Back so soon?” Perfuma asked, scrubbing at a stain.

“Yeah,” Adora replied simply. She slid into one of the stools and pulled at the collar of her light blue Hawiian shirt. The shirt was Glimmer’s idea. It was made from an uncomfortable polyester blend, but the sparkly haired woman had insisted that it would show off Adora’s best assets- her shoulders- and make her irresistible. Glimmer was right. Before Adora dropped her date off at home, she had tried to convince her to ‘fuck her into oblivion’. Adora politely declined.

“What happened?”

Adora shrugged, “Nothing happened.”

Perfuma stopped cleaning, “Oh, that bad, huh? I’m sorry. She seemed really nice.”

“She was.” Adora left it at that. She could have easily said that she was a freak too, but Adora wasn’t about to out the poor girl to Perfuma that she wanted her brains screwed out by a stranger. Perfuma eyed her, waiting for Adora to continue. When she didn’t, Perfuma decided to pour her a glass of water. She slid it across the bar and Adora caught it with ease.

“So then… what was the problem?” Perfuma asked, leaning her elbows on the spotless counter. That question was easy. The _problem_ was that she wasn’t _her._ None of the women Glimmer and Bow set her up with were, none of them were even _close_. Before they became religiously devoted to getting her a girlfriend, Adora had resigned herself to a life alone. That wasn’t so bad, right? She had her dog and her friends, and anyways, plenty of people live full, meaningful lives without a significant other. Why couldn’t she? Besides, it wasn’t like Adora had an actual choice in the matter. No matter what happened or where her or Catra ended up, Adora’s heart would belong to her. There was no getting it back.

Adora sighed, “I don’t think I'm genetically set up for dating to be honest.”

“We both know that's not true,” Perfuma said softly. Adora looked away and down at her hands, spreading her palms flat out on the counter on either side of her water.

“Fine. Yeah.” Adora pursed her lips. “I guess something’s just missing. I don't know, there isn't… a spark. No one seems to be able to light my match.”

Perfuma hummed, “Maybe you're looking at it wrong.”

“How's that?” Adora raised a brow, a confused look on her face.

“Maybe that's the wrong metaphor. Maybe it's less about striking a match and more about planting a seed and nurturing its growth. It takes time, patience, and effort.”

Adora almost scowled, “I've done that once before. Didn't end well.”

“Is that why you refuse to try now?” Perfuma asked earnestly.

Adora held up a finger, “Hold on. Who ever said I'm not trying?” Perfuma gave her that look that meant _are you shitting me?_ but in a nicer and less demeaning way than Glimmer would have probably done it.

“I watched you all night. You go through the motions with exceptional ease. You greeted her by pulling out her chair when she arrived, laughed at all her jokes, shared some wine- which I could tell you hated- and then she tried to kiss you and you swerved. And then what, you drove her home?”

“Well… yeah, she took an Uber here. I didn’t want her waiting for another one when I could just drive her. What's your point?”

“I'm saying that you fake interest.”

“Well if you could tell from all the way over here, I'm surprised the date lasted as long as it did,” Adora said with a little chuckle.

“Adora this isn't a joke,” Perfuma insisted, letting out an exasperated sigh. There was a brief pause. And then: “Do you even want to date?” 

Adora stilled. It was an honest question, and one Adora didn’t want to answer. It was easier living in limbo, in the metaphorical Schrodinger’s Box where she could imagine she enjoyed her friends setting her up while disliking it at the same time. Adora shrugged, “I- I don’t know. Bow and Glimmer set these things up for me. Wait, did you say you watched me all night?”

“Someone has to look out for you, especially if you won't do it yourself.” Perfuma gave her a warm smile and took one of Adora’s hands in her own. For a moment, Adora worried that Perfuma would try to kiss her, but the moment passed quickly. She knew the girl harbored feelings for her- feelings Adora endorsed once upon a time when they fell into a relationship a few years back- but Perfuma wouldn’t do that to her. She wouldn’t put her in that position.

Adora returned the smile, “Well I'm pretty sure Bow and Glimmer have that covered.” Perfuma sighed and looked away like she was considering what Adora had just said. Then she grasped Adora’s hand tighter.

“Are you okay?” Perfuma asked, turning back to meet Adora’s steely blue eyes. “I mean really? Glimmer mentioned on Tuesday that you haven't been to therapy in months.” Adora had to clench her jaw tight to keep it from dropping to the floor. How did Glimmer find out? And why _the heck_ did she tell Perfuma? Who else did she tell? _That_ snitch _. I’m gonna have to have a talk with her about privacy._

Adora suppressed a frustrated groan and slid her free hand over Perfuma’s, “Trust me I'm _fine_. You know, it's usually considered a good thing when you leave therapy. So don't worry.”

“But I do worry… You have a tendency to not do what's best for your health. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

“Perfuma, I'm all good. I swear.”

“I'm not convinced,” Perfuma huffed. Then her voice softened, “But if there's anything you need, all you have to do is ask.”

“Hmmm.” Adora looked down at her untouched water. “I guess if you’re offering... could you maybe… make me a burger and fries?” Adora asked sheepishly. She had eaten dinner mere hours ago, but her stomach was an insatiable glutton. It always had been. In their early teenage years, Catra had once snuck Adora out to a fair. Catra wanted to ride The Tornado until they both lost their lunches, but Adora had argued that they needed to eat lunch first before they could lose it. 

That was how they ended up at the pie eating contest. Needless to say, Catra backed out last minute and Adora won with flying colors.

Perfuma laughed. “Already got it made. I’ll just go fetch it from the warming drawer.” 

“Thank you,” Adora said. Perfuma smiled and turned to leave but Adora held her hand tighter, keeping her in place. Perfuma gave her a confused look. Before her courage could leave her, Adora leaned over the bar and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Though she wasn't in love with Perfuma, Adora still had a soft spot for her.

When she pulled away, Adora said, “Seriously. Thank you.”

Perfuma let out a small laugh, a blush creeping into her cheeks, “For the burger and fries?”

“No, for being such an angel.” And that’s what she was, an angel. Maybe that’s why it didn’t work out between them; Perfuma was too good for her.

After eating and bidding Perfuma a good night- or technically, morning- Adora drove home slowly and evenly. Being alone in the car allowed time for some quiet reflection, something Adora desperately didn’t want. Her mind drifted back to Catra, as it always did when she was alone. 

Back then in the home, Adora had known Catra loved her. Maybe she wasn’t _in_ love, but she knew the magicat cared for her deeply. They were best friends, they spent years in that hellhole together, nurturing, caring for, and loving each other. When Adora had found a way out of that place, all that love slipped away, like footprints in the sand. Like tears in the rain. Years of love and comfort had been forgotten in the hatred of a minute.

It was probably better this way. After all, Catra seemed to be doing just fine without her. More than fine, actually. She was rich, famous, and had grown into the kind of beauty that made people forget what they were going to say when they looked at her (though, Catra had that effect on her long before she looked like a goddess). Throughout childhood and her teen years, Catra was none of those things, least of all worthy of being on the cover of Vogue. She was a scrawny, skinny little bundle of energy. So much so, that when Adora saw Catra on the news for the first time in nearly three years, she almost didn’t recognize her.

Adora wished she hadn’t recognized her at all. She was happy for Catra, she was. Catra deserved everything in the world, especially after what she had to endure under Shadow Weaver, but seeing her had sprouted this echoing aching feeling in her chest that she just couldn’t shake. Did Catra miss her at all? Did she feel like something was still missing under all that success? Or had she forgotten all about Adora the second the blonde stepped out of the group home?

Adora had wanted to call her and ask. She so badly wanted to know, _needed_ to know, but then Catra’s parting words to her rang through her mind once more: 

_“I don’t ever want to see your face again.”_

_“I’m done with you.”_

_“Don’t call me, Adora.”_

_“I fucking hate you!”_

Adora had no right to be upset, no right to call Catra after leaving her. She wasn’t allowed closure because she didn’t deserve it. So instead of calling, she got blackout drunk for the second and last time in her life and tried to go on living. Because that’s what Adora had always done- just go on living, whether she felt like it or not.

Arriving home, Adora parked her car in the garage and headed straight for the kitchen where her gun and badge were waiting on the counter. She removed the standard issue 9mm Luger from its holster and checked to see if it was loaded. It was.

She stood in silence for a moment, staring down at the weapon and listening to the wind softly beat against the ever empty house. It stood as a great parallel to her life as it was now. Barren. Hollow. _Alone._

The feeling of loneliness hit her hard in that moment, and that moment became everything, that moment was an eternity.

Adora flipped the safety off.

She closed her eyes.

She put the gun up to her head, finger dancing on the trigger.

And waited.

Adora wasn’t suicidal, _she wasn’t_ , but she’d be lying if she said she never got that reckless feeling. When the weight of everything that had ever happened to her and every suffocating failure of hers became too much, it was a relief to have the power to take that all away if she so wanted. After what Weaver did to her and losing Mara- losing _Catra_ \- and all the hurt in between, it felt like a comfort to know she had an out. A _definitive_ out.

She just never had the courage to take it. One day, when she stopped doing this world any real good, she would find it in herself to take the shot. Until then…

Adora let the gun fall.

She let out a shuddering breath, clicked the safety back on, and secured it back in it’s holster. _Not today,_ Adora thought.

The electronic dog door sounded off as Swift Wind made his entrance from the backyard. When he saw Adora, his tail wagged wildly behind him and he let out a couple of excited noises that almost sounded like barks.

“Hey boy,” Adora greeted him with an enthusiasm that betrayed the fact that she had just held a gun to her head mere seconds ago. He ran to her, collar jingling and nails clicking on the hardwood as he did so. He slipped as he took a corner too hard, and Adora shook her head with laughter. When he finally reached her, his head nudged forcefully into her thigh and she plopped onto the floor and began petting him. She dug her hands into the silky white fur on either side of his head, scratching at the base of his pointed ears. He leaned into the touch.

“That’s a good dog,” Adora cooed. He _was_ a good dog- a smart one, too. So smart in fact that he failed out of the Police Academy. Apparently they don’t like canines with a mind of their own.

Adora spent a few more minutes coddling Swift Wind and telling him what a good boy he was before crawling over to the couch to lay down. For the first time in like, six, seven days, she was actually exhausted enough to sleep. What a shame she only had a few measly hours before having to get up for work. Adora pushed that thought out of her head, determined to make the most of it. 

She was asleep within minutes, the rhythmic battering of wind against the house lulling her into much needed slumber as Swift Wind curled up by her feet.

What seemed like seconds later (but was probably closer to five hours), she was roused by her phone buzzing in her pocket. It was trapped between her thigh and the couch, causing it to send ticklish vibrations down her leg. Adora groaned and rolled over. That quickly proved to be a mistake when she fell off the couch, landing on the hardwood floor with a yelp. She landed on her bad leg, which spasmed profusely. Seconds later, she heard Swift Wind hop off the couch and begin to nudge her arm affectionately, whimpering a little.

“I’m fine, boy,” She grit her teeth against the pain shooting down her leg, digging her forehead into the floor as she fished out her phone.

By the time she had gotten it out of her pocket, the damn thing had already gone to voicemail. She checked her call log. It was Bow. It was also six thirty in the morning. Work didn’t start for another hour and a half.

Adora tisked, trying to decide whether or not this was an emergency. He’d only ever called her this early for two things; either he wanted to go running before work, or there was a case. It was a toss of the coin every time. 

After a moment of reflection, Adora decided that she would call him once she was properly dressed. Whatever he wanted, it could at least wait until then. She hauled herself to her feet- or, at least, she tried to. Her leg was not cooperating. It seized with a shooting pain, forcing her back to the floor. _I should not have slept on the couch._ Adora carefully rolled onto her back and slapped a hand to her forehead, dragging it down her face. She did not have the patience for this.

“Son of a-” _Son of a bitch._ Poor Bow. There would be no running this morning. “Swifty,” Adora beckoned, pointing to her room down the hallway. “Bag.” Swift Wind looked at her for a second before taking off down the hall. Adora let out a breath of relief, grateful for those lessons she took with him. They were coming in clutch now.

Maybe a minute later, Swift Wind appeared from Adora’s room, carrying a small black bag between his teeth. He padded right up to Adora and she grabbed it from his mouth. She muttered some praises and gave him a quick pat before pulling out the bottle of heavy duty pain killers. Adora struggled with getting the child-proofed lid off for longer than she would have liked, but eventually she got it open. She popped a tablet under her tongue and pulled herself up to sit against the couch.

It would be about thirty minutes before the Fentanyl started to take effect, so there wasn’t much else she could do except call Bow. She dialed his number and brought the phone up to her ear, feeling Swift Wind settle into her side.

“ _Adora?_ ” Bow’s voice sounded from the other end.

“Yeah, Bow. What did you need?” Adora asked, her voice still laden with sleep. She heard Bow gasp on the other end of the line.

“ _Oh, no! You were sleeping weren’t you? Gosh dangit Adora! That’s the first time in like a week! And I ruined it! You know what, I think I can handle this one on my own. You get back to sleep and-_ ”

“Bow, calm down. It’s fine. I’ll be ready in thirty minutes. Pick me up?”

“ _Are you sure?_ ”

Adora forced out a frustrated groan, making sure Bow heard how exasperated she was.

“ _Okay_ !” he responded quickly. “ _I’ll fill you in on what exactly we’re doing when I pick you up. See you then!_ ”

They exchanged goodbyes before Adora hung up the phone. She made a move to get up and get dressed before realizing that there was a _reason_ she was sitting on the hard floor of her living room letting her ass go numb- and that reason was her pathetic excuse for a leg.

“Right,” Adora said to herself, slumping back against the couch. It was going to be a long thirty minutes.


	2. there's a fog from my past that's giving me a headache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I exclusively listened to youtuber's reading and commenting on Onision's shitty trilogy of books while I wrote this, so shoutout to those poor souls who got me through this and also Onision for being such a bad writer it makes my writing look immaculate.
> 
> Also, no, Adam and Adora are not related in this fic, they're just both himbos and Catra has a thing for dumb people.

**october, sophomore year of high school: adora**

Adora let out a frustrated groan and threw herself back against the bed, head hanging off the mattress. She stared at the upside down world, furniture hanging off the ceiling like she was in some warped parallel universe where gravity worked in reverse. Maybe this is exactly what she needed: a new perspective. What she had written so far was good, it was definitely good, but it was far too obvious. Every lyric was a confession of love, of admiration, a bearing of her soul to the person she had been crushing on way too long for it to  _ actually  _ be a crush, and Catra was the opposite of stupid. She was bound to figure it out. 

Maybe she should just burn what she had written and start over. Write something more generic about partying or something. Yeah. Yeah, that was a good idea. Maybe if she-

An unexpected weight plopped itself into Adora’s lap without warning, effectively knocking the wind from her lungs. She surged up so forcefully, her neck cracked with a violent tense of her muscles.

“Son of a- Catra!” Adora scolded. The magicat was straddling her legs, staring down at her with a mischievous smirk.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Catra said with faux innocence. There was already a purr rumbling in her chest. 

A blush started creeping into Adora’s cheeks and she fell back against the bed to hide it, massaging her neck as she did so, “I think you broke my neck, Catra. Now I’m going to die.”

Catra scoffed and rolled her eyes, “You’re such a baby. Here, let me fix it.” Adora wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Catra crowding her against the mattress and nuzzling up under her jaw wasn’t even on the list. Adora bit back a small gasp as Catra essentially scent marked her as she rubbed her cheek along the side of her jaw, a loud purr rolling between them. 

This was a dangerous thing for them to be doing in broad daylight while Ms. Weaver was home. Adora knew that better than anyone else; Weaver didn’t like anyone touching Adora. Because, according to Weaver, Adora was hers. Adora shuddered as memories entered her mind, unbidden. Memories of Weaver’s hands on her, stripping her of her clothes, forcing her to-

Adora shut her eyes tight, willing her mind to clear. Getting caught messing around with Catra was what  _ started  _ the extra lessons with Weaver, but she couldn’t find it in herself to stop the magicat above her. Catra made her feel  _ so safe _ , and she wasn’t going to give up being able to hold her for  _ anything _ .

“You’re the worst,” Adora choked out, even as she wrapped her arms around Catra’s back. Catra buried her face into Adora’s collarbone, hot breath puffing against the fabric of her shirt as Adora pulled her tighter against her chest. There were tears welling in her eyes that she tried to hide but Catra noticed. Somehow, some way, she always noticed. Catra went rigid above her and pulled back from the embrace, purr abruptly cutting off, brow furrowed in concern.

“Adora, are you okay? I didn’t actually mean to hurt you, I just-”

“You didn’t,” Adora quickly assured her. “It’s not that. It’s-”

It dawned on Adora that she could tell Catra everything. She could tell her what Weaver has been doing to her, how the extra lessons were really just a way to get Adora alone so that she could- so that she could- 

But what if Catra didn’t believe her? What if she said it was her fault, that she was asking for it? Or worse, what if she was disgusted by her and all the perverted things she had done? Adora hadn’t exactly said no to Weaver’s advances, she had just stayed silent. Silent and obedient, just as she’d always done. Maybe she had asked for this. Maybe this was some divine punishment for being a bad friend, and allowing Weaver to hurt Catra. Maybe she deserved this.

No, she couldn’t tell Catra. There was too much at stake. And besides, what Weaver did to her was nothing compared to the abuse Catra had to endure.

“Adora,” Catra said her name delicately, like she was afraid the blonde would break if she didn’t. “What is it?”

Adora hesitated, “I guess… I’m coming up on that time of the month. You know how it is.” She offered Catra a weak smile, before turning her head to the side and wiping at the tears with the back of her hand. Catra didn’t seem to buy it, her hands reaching up to frame Adora’s face and guiding her back to look up at the feline. Adora stared up at her, shocked by the tender gesture and looking a little anxious.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Catra asked her a bit cautiously.

“Yeah.” The reply came out a little breathless, but who could blame her? Catra was holding her with so much compassion, it made her brain collapse in on itself. Catra seemed to let out a sigh of relief, though there was still a hint of concern tainting her expression.

“Okay, dumbass,” came Catra's voice, still soft. “Did you want to work on the new songs then?”

**august, present day: catra**

Catra woke slowly, feeling the pleasant heat radiating from every inch of the room now bathed in warm sunlight. She cracked her eyes open. The curtains added an orange glow to the morning light, reflecting off the golden hair of Adam beside her. He was tangled in the white sheets, back rising and falling with each easy breath as he slept soundly.

It reminded Catra of the times she spent waking up next to Adora. For a moment she was able to picture it perfectly; the two of them snuggled up together, tangled in each other's arms, sharing their warmth. More often than not, Adora drooled on their shared pillow or tried to fight Catra in her sleep, but it was always endearing and only sometimes annoying. Catra would take one night of that over any  _ five  _ of the numerous nights she had spent with models or actors or… or even Adam. She wondered briefly if Adora still did those things- drool and sleep fight- and then her mind carried it further.  _ Had someone else gotten to see her like that? At her most ridiculous? At her most vulnerable?  _

Catra scowled at the thought, sitting up in bed and turning to plant her feet on the floor. Who was she kidding- of course someone had. Adora was a catch. Even when they were in highschool, every lesbian within a five mile radius wanted to climb her like a tree. It was crazy that she was jealous about someone getting to hold Adora tight while she threw hands in her sleep or getting to wake beside her to a puddle of drool soaking through the pillow- but she couldn’t help it. 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the possessiveness that washed over her when it came to that one blonde dumbass. They could be cities away, countries away, hell, Adora could start a one person colony on the moon and she would still get jealous of the fucking  _ moon dust _ Adora stepped on because she had chosen that dumbass- as her companion, as her partner, as her  _ mate-  _ a long, long time ago. It's just- Adora didn’t choose her.

Catra glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Seven thirty-two. She had plenty of time before she had to gather her bandmates and get them to her house for the meeting with their manager. She wanted them working on a new album today, despite just finishing up with their tour less than twenty-four hours ago. The bitch.

Catra stood and ambled over to Adam’s walk-in closet and found herself sifting through the clothes. Most of Adam’s wardrobe consisted of bland designer clothes that just looked downright uncomfortable, and a lot of long sleeved shirts that would absolutely  _ drown her _ if she tried them on, so it was more of a challenge to find something to wear than Catra had originally planned. As an added discomfort, the clothes all  _ smelled  _ like Adam, which was a scent she did not want to be wrapped up in, no matter how close they had been last night. Maybe it was  _ because  _ of how close they had been last night. As far as Catra was concerned, last night was a mistake.

Eventually, after some minor cursing, she found a scentless crop top that decently covered her bare tits- because to hell with bras- that would have to do since she couldn’t find her own clothes. Maybe they were still in the hallway where Adam had peeled them off her last night. She’d have to check when she went down for breakfast, but for the moment, she was content to walk around in just a pair of panties and the crop top. 

Just as Catra was about to open the bedroom door to the hallway, there was a soft knock on it. Catra cracked it open and the looming figure of Scorpia in yesterday's clothes appeared before her. She looked just about as disheveled as Catra felt.  _ Must have been a wild night for her, too _ .

“Uh, hey wildcat, I’ve been looking for-” Scorpia’s attention drifted past Catra and over her shoulder to the bed, and presumably, the person still sleeping in it. “You.” Her expression instantly dampened. Scorpia and her had been in this same position  _ way  _ too many times for Catra’s comfort. She shifted her weight from foot to foot as her tail puttered back and forth behind her. It wasn’t that she was  _ embarrassed _ per se, it was just too early to try and justify having yet  _ another _ one night stand snoozing in her bed (technically Adam’s bed), so Catra just rolled her eyes and asked, “What is it?”

Scorpia debated whether or not to let the issue go, but after a quick pause she just pursed her lips and said, “There are people here. Just thought I would give you and- and  _ Adam _ \- the heads up.” The way she said Adam’s name made Catra flinch. It was no secret that she didn’t particularly like the guy, what with the way she eyed him warily whenever he stepped into view or the way she blatantly told Catra  _ I don’t like him. _ But then again, she didn’t particularly like  _ anyone  _ Catra decided to take to bed, so the magicat just chalked it up to jealousy.

“Who?” Catra asked, purposefully ignoring Scorpia’s jab about Adam. She breathed an internal sigh of relief when Scorpia decided to drop it.

“Um, detectives I think?” Scorpia answered her. “I overheard Lonnie ushering them in. I don't know their names or anything. I just wanted to warn you.”

Catra wrinkled her nose, “Why are the cops here?”

“The girl Lonnie took to bed last night is gone.”

“She probably just left,” Catra said with a shrug. Then a smug smile formed on her face, “Maybe Lonnie's sexual prowess has been overexaggerated. She brags too much to actually be any good in bed.” Catra knew it wasn’t true, she had seen the results for herself on an alarmingly vast number of occasions, but she had to give her bandmate  _ some  _ shit for it. Catra swore that if she had to hear Lonnie tell one more tale about how she was  _ so good at head _ that not  _ one  _ of her conquests had been able to walk afterwards, she was going to run her over with a car.

Scorpia shook her head, too nervous to be amused, “I don't think so. There was enough evidence to suggest foul play for a couple of detectives to show.”

“Wow, you sound just like one of them.”

“Really?” Scorpia’s eyes lit up a little. “I always thought it would be cool to be a detective; solving crimes and saving lives.”

“Yeah, sounds like a blast,” Catra said, tone clearly suggesting that she did  _ not  _ think it sounded like a blast. There was a soft exhale that sounded off behind Catra, followed by a ruffling of the sheets. The magicat snuck a peek back at Adam- who was still sound asleep but was now laying on his back with the sheets tangled dangerously low on his hips- before turning to face Scorpia once more.

“Anyways. I'll find you in a bit after I get Adam up. I should probably let him know there are cops running around his house.”

“Speaking of, Catra I don't think-”

Catra held up a hand, effectively silencing Scorpia, “I don't want to talk about it.” Scorpia shuffled a little closer to the magicat which Catra  _ allowed _ , but she was moments away from just closing the door on the scorpioni and this conversation entirely.

“It's not healthy to be… sleeping around with people you barely know. It’s bad for your mental health. And your physical health. Do you know how many STD’s-” 

“ _ Scorpia. _ ” Catra choked out, exasperated.  _ Yep. I should have slammed the door in her face.  _ “I am not having a conversation about my vaginal health with you.”

“Fine. But we  _ will  _ talk about it,” Scorpia said. Catra hissed at that, baring her teeth briefly before composing herself.

Catra crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, anger seeping into her words, “Talk about what? My vagina? I know we dated once, but that doesn’t give you unrestricted access to my box.” 

Scorpia’s head snapped up, looking at Catra with  _ hurt  _ carved into her features. Catra immediately regretted her words, ears pinning back in shame, but she didn't apologize. She knew she was being a piece of shit, twisting Scorpia’s concerned and considerate words into something else entirely, but she was at her wit’s end.

“Look,” Catra sighed. “We can talk later. Right now, I gotta… I gotta go.” She shut the door before Scorpia had a chance to respond and practically pounced over to the other side of the room where Adam was  _ still  _ sleeping, and proceeded to wake him in the rudest way possible because she needed  _ something  _ to distract herself from the weight and truth of Scorpia’s words. Being an asshole usually did the trick.

“Hey shithead, time to wake up,” Catra said, voice hard and unyielding. She wanted to get this over with so she could get as far away as possible from him and Scorpia and anyone else who reminded her what a shitty life she was living. 

She wanted to get out of this room, out of this house, and get back to her own where she could drink herself into a coma and nurse her wounded heart  _ alone _ . She wanted to throw on Adora’s old hoodie that (by some miracle) still faintly smelled like her and cry until the misery became rage, and she was intoxicated enough by both her resentment and actual alcohol to find someone that would fuck the hate out of her. No matter how many times it had failed, Catra still hoped that the euphoria of sex would spill over into her day to day life. But every morning she would wake up next to a stranger, a person who was unmistakably  _ not  _ Adora, and the cycle would start again. 

Regret. Heartache. Sorrow.  _ Rage _ . It wasn’t the best way to live, but it was the only way she knew how to.

Adam stirred, stretching a bit as he turned to blink up at the magicat, “What time is it?” Catra wanted to spit out  _ the clock’s right there, check for yourself-  _ but then he ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair the same way Adora used to when she was frustrated, and Catra remembered _ exactly why  _ she chose him of all people to be here with, and the words died in her throat.

Catra let out a shaky breath, hoping Adam couldn’t hear the nervous hitch in his near-sleeping state, “It’s time for you to get up.”

“Mmm. I think I’m good. It’s too early to get up.” Adam groaned and rolled over, showing off the impressive scratches Catra had so graciously bestowed upon him last night during their third- or maybe fourth- session. Catra averted her gaze.

“If you don't get up, I'll dump a bucket of water on your head,” she threatened. She heard Adam snort into the pillow before turning back to look at her.

“Okay fine, I'm up,” he chuckled, muscles rippling as he sat up in bed. “You are the bitchiest woman I have ever dated, you know that?” He stood from the bed and planted a kiss to her cheek before making his way into the bathroom, butt naked and smiling like a child on Christmas day.

Catra froze.  _ Whoa, whoever said we were dating? _ Her eyes widened as memories from last night came flooding back, memories of him saying  _ I love you _ and her saying it  _ back _ . What was she thinking? Seriously, what  _ the fuck _ was she thinking? Catra ran her hands through her mane. She wasn’t even that drunk- actually, she wasn’t drunk  _ at all _ \- why did she say that to him? She should not have said that to him. 

Catra grit her teeth, the claws on her feet gouging into the expensive wood floors. She was about three seconds away from serious violence. The next person who stepped foot into this room was going to get viciously mauled, whether it be Adam or Scorpia or-

The sound of the bedroom door being opened cut Catra’s mental turmoil off at the source, startling her out of it.

“Bow, we’re going to need-  _ Catra _ ?” Catra froze at the sound of her name. She hadn’t recognized the voice immediately- it had been six  _ years _ \- but the way she said her name was something that would permanently inked into her mind for eternity. She said it like it was the most precious word in her vocabulary, soft and fragile and beautiful. It made Catra’s heart clench painfully in her chest and she knew she was royally fucked. It also sent a nervous chill through her system because  _ Adora was here _ , in the flesh, and it was what she had been fantasizing about forever, but she was  _ not  _ ready for this. Not one bit.

Her anxiety only spread like a wildfire as she finally built up the courage to actually look at Adora, who was standing in the doorway completely shell shocked.  _ Fuck me,  _ were the only words that came to Catra’s mind, but she felt they fully encapsulated what she was feeling. The first thing she noticed was that Adora was  _ tall _ . She definitely hit a growth spurt during their time apart. The second thing- the thing that made Catra’s cheeks burn and her tail lash wildly behind her- was that she was  _ muscular _ , sculpted from hard marble like one of those statues by Michelangelo. Only this was better because Adora was flesh and blood and she was wearing a Hawiian shirt that pulled so deliciously at those broad shoulders and  _ Jesus _ . Catra had to tear her eyes away before she got any more flustered and ruined the only pair of panties she had with her.

And that  _ scent _ . Fuck, Catra missed her scent. How did she not notice it earlier, wafting through the house? Shit, okay, she needed to focus but… well, she didn’t know what to do; she wasn’t prepared to see her  _ at all _ and it wasn’t  _ fair  _ how hot Adora had gotten (not that she wasn’t hot before). So she came to a most logical conclusion. It was time to let her instincts take over. Or in other words, it was time to be a bitch.

“I’m surprised you still know my name,” Catra raised her chin, challenging Adora, crossing her arms over her chest. She made a conscious decision to keep her eyes trained on Adora’s face. If she let them wander, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from running her hands all over her- because Catra hadn’t seen her in  _ so long _ and suddenly she was right in front of her and her hands itched to touch.

Adora’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Wh- What do you mean?” It sounded like she genuinely didn’t know. They stared at each other for a tense moment until Adora conceded. Adora’s eyes flickered downwards at Catra’s exposed- well,  _ everything _ \- and had the humility to flush before looking at anything but her. Catra stood a little taller, proud that she could pull a reaction like that out of her after all these years. At least Adora now saw that she was  _ objectively  _ hot, even if she didn’t harbor any real feelings for her. Even if she never had.

“Hey Catra, do you have… ”

Catra was startled out of her stupor when Adam swung the bathroom door open and walked in on the three of them, naked as the day he was born, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and manhood dangling between his legs.

“Jesus  _ Christ _ ,” Adora said, rolling her eyes and pointedly looking away.

“Wow, okay. Can’t say I see that every day,” Bow added, covering his eyes like a little kid. Catra wanted to laugh. She almost did, until she met the heated gaze of Adora, those perfect ocean blue eyes searching her own with something that looked like _betrayal._ But that couldn’t be right. Adora had always been protective of Catra whenever she had gone and gotten herself a date in high school, but that’s all it was; a protective instinct. Whenever Adora tore a girl off Catra when she had had too much alcohol for it to be consensual, or she texted Catra every couple hours while she was on a date, she was just looking out for her friend. Because Adora was like that. Apparently, she was _still_ like that, despite them not being friends anymore. Catra didn’t know what to do with that information or the intense look the blonde was giving her. This time, she was first to break their shared gaze.

She could feel Adora’s eyes study her for a moment longer before suddenly turning on Adam, features hardening, “Alright, I’m already tired of avoiding looking at junior here, so how about you cover up before I charge you with public indecency.” Her voice was firm and demanding, and Catra couldn’t stop herself from thinking whether or not she used that tone in the bedroom. Catra tried and failed not to blush at the thought of Adora using that tone on  _ her _ while they-

“Y-yes, officer. Sorry,” Adam stuttered out, grabbing his boxers from the floor and slipping them on as quickly as possible. Catra watched him struggle for a second before looking back at the two so-called officers.

“So officers, huh? You don’t look like a cop.” Catra purposefully eyed Adora’s wrinkled Hawaiian shirt that was haphazardly tucked into a pair of trousers. Her hair was down and looked a bit wild, like she forgot to brush it before heading out. To top it all off, a blue baseball cap with a Bright Moon Police Department logo plastered on the front sat atop her head, slightly off kilter. In all honesty, Adora more closely resembled someone who woke up on the lawn outside a frat house after a rager rather than a professional who had arrived from the office.

Adora, for her part, was too busy staring again at Catra’s absolute lack of clothes to even register the question. Catra felt herself smirk, uncrossing her arms and placing her hands on her hips, the action forcing her tits to strain against the front of her crop top.

“See something you like, princess?” Catra asked with faux-innocence. She didn’t even realize the old term of endearment had slipped out until she saw Adora’s eyes shoot up to meet hers, a delightful blush spreading across Adora’s face. Adora quickly turned away, clenching her jaw  _ tight _ , biting down on the toothpick Catra just noticed she was chewing on.

Adora shared a glance with the man- Bow is what Adora had called him- standing next to her. “It was… a long night,” she hesitantly explained. “Didn't have time to change. But I can show you my badge if you want proof.”

“Long night?” Catra inquired, quirking an eyebrow. She wanted to know what exactly she meant by that. Was she dating someone?  _ Sleeping  _ with someone? Her shirt was wrinkled like it had been carelessly thrown to the floor during a fit of feverish desire in the wake of a long night of passion. Catra internally growled at the thought. Yep. She still hated the idea of anyone getting to touch Adora like that.

“Yeah,” Adora confirmed, refusing to meet Catra’s shameless gaze. In fact, she refused to even look in Catra’s general direction, still too flustered.

Bow glanced back and forth between Adora and the magicat before loudly clearing his throat, “Okay, so we are going to need to ask you two a few questions. Nothing serious, just trying to paint a clear picture of last night.”

“How about we do it over some coffee?” Adam asked, sliding up next to Catra, who had admittedly forgotten he was even there. “ _ After _ Catra and I get dressed? I’d rather not be interrogated in my underwear.” He wrapped an arm around her hip, pulling her into his side. Adora’s scent was immediately muddled by Adam’s, and Catra had to resist the instinct to growl and rip herself out of his grasp.

Adora blew out an annoyed breath, “We’re not interrogating-” 

“That's a good idea,” Bow agreed with Adam, giving Adora a  _ look. _ “Come on, Adora,” Bow said, urging her back out the door with a hand on her arm. Catra realized she wanted to follow them out the door if only to taunt Adora some more, but Adam’s grip on her tightened.

“Don't you want to change into something less… I don’t know, revealing?” Adam questioned. He eyed her up and down, giving Catra the impression that he didn’t want the cops gawking at her the entire time, but he could shove that sentiment up his ass.

“Oh please. I’ve worn less while performing in front of a hundred thousand people. I'll meet you downstairs,” Catra said, wriggling out of his grasp. In spite of her better judgement, Catra raised up on her toes to land a quick kiss on Adam’s cheek before heading towards the door, where Adora was still watching her. The act felt hollow and left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she wanted to show how great her life was without Adora, how her leaving did  _ not  _ devastate her, how she was thriving with her gone. Catra  _ wasn’t  _ thriving, and her life was the opposite of great, but she didn’t want Adora to  _ know that. _ How pathetic would that be if Adora found out how horrible Catra felt all this time? How empty her life had been without her in it? She could almost picture that pitiful, guilty frown warping her stupidly perfect face. 

_ No _ , she didn’t want pity, she wanted  _ answers _ . And one way or another, she was going to pull them from Adora, even if she had to get them both locked up in an interrogation room. If only the bitchy, evil side of her who wanted to tease and torture the poor blonde could take a goddamn break and let her  _ work _ .

**october, sophomore year of high school: adora**

“So let’s see these lyrics you can't seem to stop bragging about,” Catra said, snatching the papers out of Adora’s hands. They were in their shared bedroom, Adora plopped into her desk chair and Catra perched on the desk itself. She had flung all of Adora’s homework and writing utensils on the floor much to Adora’s displeasure, but Catra felt it was only fair since she didn’t have her own desk. Just another shining example of Shadow Weaver’s blatant favoritism towards her favorite foster kid. Catra wasn’t jealous, she  _ wasn’t _ , but it was hard to ignore how well Weaver took care of Adora. 

Every year, it was a new phone, a new laptop, expensive brand name clothes, new shoes. If Adora wanted to try a sport, or a new instrument, or go to an event it was an automatic yes. Nothing was too good for her precious Adora and no expense was spared when it came to her. Catra wouldn’t mind so much if she even got an inkling of what Adora got, but she didn’t. Her and the other two fosters were never anything but the dirt on Weaver’s shoes- Catra even less so. And Weaver never let her forget it. So no, Catra wasn’t  _ jealous _ , she just felt it was only fair to add a little chaos to Adora’s perfect life.

Adora rolled her eyes so far back into her skull, she probably saw her brain, “I literally haven’t said anything about them. You’re so dramatic.”

“Shut up,” Catra said, flicking Adora affectionately in the ear.

“Ow, hey!” Adora said, though it definitely didn’t hurt. She squinted up at Catra who just leaned back against the wall and crossed her legs, a smirk plastered on her face. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“It's a thankless job, torturing you day in and day out, but  _ someone  _ has to do it,” Catra replied. 

Adora shook her head, but couldn’t keep a smile from lighting up her face, “Would you just look at the lyrics already?”

“Fine,” Catra said, turning her attention to the looseleaf in her hand. Like everything else in Adora’s life, the writing was pristine. She laughed a little at the way Adora wrote, perfect lines meeting flawless curves. Just like Adora. Catra’s chicken scratch couldn’t even compare. 

She read the lyrics labeled“Church” first. She snorted at the title which earned her a smack in the knee from Adora, but then she started reading the actual lyrics Adora had come up with and her breath caught in her throat.

“What? Is it bad? Is it too much? Which one are you looking at?” Adora asked her nervously, wringing out her hands. “Sorry, I know the lyrics aren’t exactly head-banger kind of stuff, but-”

“Adora, shut up.” Catra said, not taking her eyes off the paper. How could she, when Adora had practically poured her heart out into a few scribbles on paper? 

The second set of lyrics was labeled “Hold On, We’re Going Home”, and it was almost as intense, but was a lot easier to digest.

Catra by no means thought the lyrics were bad. In fact it was quite the opposite; they were beautiful and personal and so, so raw. They tugged at Catra’s heartstrings until they snapped and she was sure if she wasn’t already in love with Adora, she definitely would be now. The only problem was that she didn’t want to share Adora’s passion on paper with anyone else. They had agreed that whatever song Adora came up with, she would sing it for their performance, just to spice things up. The band did that occasionally as a fun way to step out of their respective comfort zones.

But Catra would rather die than let Adora sing to the audience about how she’d  _ get on her knees for them. _ There were already too many girls vying for Adora’s attention as it was. Catra didn’t want them swooning during their set and then rushing her after they were finished. Though, they were probably going to do that anyway. Catra would have to make sure to subtly mark her before they performed, whenever that happened to be. It wasn’t that Catra was jealous or anything; she just knew Adora wasn’t comfortable being bombarded by attention, let alone rampaging teen hormones. She was also delicate and foolish and dumb and didn’t know how to say no to anyone, let alone pretty girls. So by keeping that shit away from Adora, Catra was actually being a good friend. That’s why she was doing it. No other reason.

“Fuck, Adora, were you high when you wrote this?” Catra asked after a long silence.

“N-no!” Adora stuttered, running a nervous hand through her hair. “Why? Are they bad?” She looked up at Catra with an expression somewhere between mortification and embarrassment.

“Calm down, dummy,” Catra laughed, poking Adora in the forehead with a single finger. “They’re good. But this one,” she pointed to the first one she read, “probably won’t make the cut.”

“Oh, really?” Adora asked, looking disappointed. “Too many religious overtones for you?”

“Yeah,” Catra lied. Her phone buzzed in her pocket the same time Adora’s dinged on her bed. She pulled it out and read the message from their band group chat, Adora leaning over to read it.

Scorpion _ : We’re here! Meet you in the garage! :) _

__ Catra glanced out the window to her left. Sure enough, there was Scorpia and Lonnie hopping out of Scorpia’s beat up truck, unloading some equipment. 

Catra hopped off the desk. “But anyways, the other one is really good. If we can set some music to it, I think this should be our closing song.”

“Cool, very cool,” Adora said, jumping out of her chair and following Catra to the door. “I was thinking some heavy bass would work well with-”

“Base,” Catra corrected as they reached the stairs.

“What?”

“It's pronounced ‘base’. Bass is a fish,” Catra explained, a smile playing on her lips. They had been playing in a band for almost two years now and Adora still said it wrong. How she fell for a total dumbass, she’ll never know.

“Oh,” Adora said simply. “Well, nobody likes a know-it-all.”

Catra flicked Adora in the ear again, “You're such an idiot.” She tried to keep a hard edge to her voice when she said it, but the words came out soft and sweet. Tender and affectionate. Gentle and sentimental. It sounded too much like a love confession to Catra’s ears so she followed it up with a scoff to throw Adora off her scent. Luckily, the blonde didn’t seem to have caught on.

“Maybe I am, maybe I amn’t,” was Adora’s goofy reply.

“I take that back,” Catra said, shaking her head. “You're not an idiot, you’re a straight up dumbass.”

Adora shrugged, “Maybe, but I’m your dumbass.”

Catra’s blush was immediate and she almost choked on nothing, having to bite back a gasp at the nonchalant way Adora just said  _ I’m yours _ . She wanted to tell Adora that she couldn’t just say things like that, but she was already through the door leading into the garage and greeting their bandmates.

“Hey guys!” Adora briefly hugged them both before getting into a complicated- and rather aggressive- handshake maneuver with Lonnie. Watching Adora be a doof did nothing to tamp down the fucking somersaults her stomach was doing. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), her view was soon blocked by Scorpia’s massive form advancing on her.

“Wildcat!” Scorpia exclaimed, pulling her into a crushing hug. And now the somersaults were gone, the feeling replaced by one of annoyance. Scorpia, along with being an amazing drummer, also made a brilliant chaser.

“Ugh, Scorpia, get  _ off  _ me,” Catra growled against her chest, of which she was practically drowning in. Scorpia put her down reluctantly.

“Sorry wildcat, I just missed you,” Scorpia explained while Catra straightened out her clothes and brushed imaginary dust off her sleeves.

Catra glared at her, “I literally saw you yesterday. In school. We have  _ five  _ classes together.  _ Five _ .”

“Yeah, but Adora gets to see you  _ everyday _ , and not just in class,” Scorpia pouts, voice riddled with jealousy.

“That’s how living together works,” Catra snapped.

“That’s how what works?” Lonnie asked. She and Adora had appeared beside Scorpia, both panting a bit from their ridiculous handshake they insisted on doing every single time they saw each other. Lonnie had one of her arms resting on Adora’s shoulder, raising a brow at Catra.

Catra never particularly liked how close Lonnie and Adora were. She knew it was irrational and possessive- she had read Twilight for fuck’s sake (at Adora’s request)- but she couldn’t help it. When Catra probed Adora about their friendship, Adora had assured her that she only saw Lonnie as a friend, but Lonnie on more than one occasion had told Catra that she would totally tap that if Adora was down for that sort of thing. So yeah, Catra had a vendetta against her. She was blatant competition. Catra wanted Adora to be hers, she wanted to be  _ Adora’s _ , but-

Pitifully, Catra realized that she had just as much chance as getting with Adora as Lonnie. Or an Adidas sandal for that matter. Adora was fucking gorgeous, a literal goddess among the masses of sweaty, smelly teenagers that plagued their age group. She didn’t even have acne. Her flawless skin coupled with her sharp features and ocean blue eyes? She was to die for. And Catra- Catra was scrawny and small and curveless. Her clothes clung to her in all the wrong ways. Her mane was usually wild and untamed (though that was mostly Weaver’s fault for not investing in the proper hybrid hair products), and if there was a poster child for all the bad things in life she would be it.

While Adora was one of the school's most beloved students- great grades, star athlete, member of at least three different clubs, popular- Catra was notorious for causing trouble. She had started more than a few fights and had finished even more. She had a reputation for being confrontational, which, yeah- that checked out. She could deal with her bad reputation, but the rumors that were started about her? That she was less okay with.

In freshman year, rumors circulated about her taking out a classmate’s eye during a fight and keeping it in a jar on her nightstand. When Adora heard that one making the rounds she laughed. More recently, rumors also circulated about her letting three college guys take turns fucking her at a party. Catra was glad Adora had yet to hear that one.

“None of your business, Lonnie,” Catra growled, tail lashing as she walked straight through the two of them to break up the contact. She slammed her shoulder into Lonnie’s for good measure.

“Watch out Catra, your bitch is showing,” Lonnie smirked, unperturbed by Catra’s complete and utter lack of restraint.

“Can we please not have a fight today?” Adora pleaded. “There’s a lot we need to get done with these new songs and we only get a few hours to practice-”

The slamming of a car door had all four of them turning their heads toward the noise. Out in the cul-de-sac a black car had been parked by the curb, it’s owner walking up their driveway. Catra didn’t recognize him.

The guy was tall and clean cut, his cropped white hair contrasting nicely with his dark suit. He had vibrant green eyes that searched the house curiously before landing on the lot of them.

“Afternoon,” he said, voice smooth and even as he stepped into the garage. His gaze landed on Catra and she had to fight the urge to shiver. There was something about him that made her fur stand on end. She smoothed out her sleeves, grateful that no one could see how her fur spiked.

“Who are you?” Lonnie asked, crossing her arms. She eyed the guy warily, clearly suspicious of his presence. Catra was glad she wasn’t the only one. As much as she hated Lonnie sometimes, she was the only other one in the band who had her wits about her.

“I’m here for a meeting with Sharon Weaver. This is her address, correct?” He asked, never taking his eyes off Catra. There was something ravenous in his stare that made bile rise up in the back of the magicat’s throat. His strange scent only made it worse; ash and aluminum.

Catra felt her tail fluff up, ears twitching nervously, glued to the spot as he devoured her with his eyes. She was vaguely aware of Adora stepping into her space and throwing an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against her side. Adora’s scent was comforting, as was her embrace.

“Yeah, this is it,” Adora said, smiling at him brightly. At long last, he tore his gaze away from Catra, eyeing up the blonde standing next to her.

Suddenly, Weaver stepped into the garage, “Ah, Hordak, how nice of you to finally join me.” There was a hint of annoyance in her tone.

“Forgive my tardiness. There was… an issue I had to take care of.”

“Well, come in. And you four,” Weaver turned her attention on the lot of them. “Keep it down out here.” With that, she ushered Hordak into the house. He stole one last glance back at Catra as he stepped through the threshold and into the house. Weaver closed the door behind them as Hordak began talking, but Catra could faintly make out a few choice fragments like  _ she’s a beautiful specimen _ and  _ our organization would love such a young magicat _ before their voices faded. Catra didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.

“I’ve seen him before,” Adora stated, voice low. “I think he works with Weaver about some church thing.” Catra just nodded, still staring at the closed door.

“He’s a fucking weirdo,” Lonnie said, moving to plug in her electric guitar.

“He made me feel uncomfortable,” was Scorpia’s input.

Catra was still trying to rid herself of the sickening image of Hordak undressing her with his eyes, and did not have it in her to actually comment. She felt Adora’s hands on her shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze.

“Hey, are you alright?” Adora asked softly.

“Y-yeah,” Catra breathed, finally tearing her eyes from the door and focusing on Adora. “He was just-”

“I know. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Adora whispered through gritted teeth.

“Me neither,” Catra whispered back. She buried her head into Adora’s chest and curled her arms around her waist tightly, ignoring the looks she was probably getting from Lonnie and Scorpia. Lonnie was definitely going to give her shit for this later, but right now she didn’t care. Right now, all she cared about was ridding herself of Hordak’s smell, Hordak’s image, and finding safety in Adora’s protective embrace.

**august, present day: catra**

“So… you like guys now?” Adora asked quietly as the coffee brewed. She was leaning against the counter next to Bow, hands folded in front of her. A couple of her fingers were drumming out a nervous rhythm in sets of three. Bow looked up from his phone, worried, glancing at Adora like he was about to say something, before shaking his head a little and focusing back on his phone. Catra hopped up onto the counter across from Adora, legs spread wide enough to give the blonde a perfect view of her panties. She watched Adora quickly avert her eyes and bite down on that damned toothpick in her mouth, her jaw clenching and making that hard band of muscle strain against her skin.

_ No _ , Catra wanted to say, _ he just reminds me of you and I can only get off if I can imagine it's you. _ But what she said instead was closer to:

“Why the fuck do you care?”

Adora pursed her lips, “Just trying to make small talk.”

“In what universe is asking someone about their sex life considered small talk?” Catra nearly hissed, because for some reason, her bitchy side had decided to take control once again. She didn’t want to push Adora away, not  _ like this _ , not after finally seeing her for the first time in six goddamn years, but something in her just couldn’t let the anger go.

And that’s what it was; anger. Anger at Adora and how she left, how she broke every promise she ever made to Catra. She used to think it was hate. Maybe it was, for a little while at least. But she could never really hate someone who had been with her through the worst years of her life, singing her to sleep, holding her through her nightmares, cleaning the wounds dealt to her by Weaver and fellow classmates alike. She couldn’t  _ hate  _ someone who had made her feel safe during a time in her life where nothing was- but she could be  _ angry _ . And apparently, she was.

“That's not what I- I didn’t-” Adora hung her head. “Forget I asked.”

Adora pushed off the counter, and mumbled something along the lines of  _ I’m gonna go check some rooms. _ Bow just sighed and nodded.  _ Fuck,  _ Catra thought.  _ Now I’ve done it _ . How was she supposed to talk to Adora now?

“Hey, sorry it took so long,” came Adam’s voice from behind. He shuffled into the kitchen. “So what can we help you with?”

He poured the three of them coffee, adding extra sugar to Catra’s after she told him to do so. Bow thanked him for the hospitality and then started his round of questioning as Adam hopped up onto the marble countertop next to Catra. She barely noticed any of it, absently cradling her warm mug of mostly sugar and watching Adora patrol the open concept mansion. She examined every small detail, whether it was a nick in the wall, a slight stain in the carpet from spilt alcohol, or a print on a window. Nothing got past her it seemed, and if Catra was being honest with herself, she was a little impressed. Eventually though, Adora disappeared around a corner and into a hallway that led to the garage and Catra lost sight of her.

She huffed and took a sip of her coffee. A few minutes passed and Scorpia and Lonnie joined them in the kitchen, both of them appearing anxious, which wasn’t unusual for Scorpia- but Lonnie? That only happened once in a blue moon.

“Have you found anything yet?” Lonnie asked, distractedly biting at her thumb nail.

“No, we’re still in the questioning phase,” Bow explained, tucking his handheld notebook into his coat pocket. “Adora is looking around, but there were no obvious signs of struggle. We had an officer stop by Marlena’s house and she wasn’t there. At this point we are not narrowing anything down. We’re considering all possi-”

“Bow!” Adora shouted, appearing around the corner with hurried steps. “You need to look at this.” She had latex gloves on and a letter in her hand, carefully opened. Bow read the letter over her shoulder, face twisting into confusion. Catra watched the two of them intently, ears twitching, tail becoming restless. Adam, Scorpia, and Lonnie weren’t fairing much better, all of them nervously watching, awaiting a verdict.

Adora glimpsed up from the letter, locking eyes with Catra before looking over at Lonnie. There was a healthy amount of concern on her face, which only served to make the rest of them more anxious.

“Where did you find that?” Adam asked, his words cutting through the tension in the air.

“The garage,” Adora said.

“What does it say?” Catra asked, setting her mug down and slipping off the counter to read the letter for herself. When she reached Adora’s side, she surprisingly didn’t pull away and instead angled the letter for Catra to read better.

_ If you go digging, all you'll find is dirt. _

_ If you try to find me, I'll take one of the shadow's little birdies next. If you don't, she'll die within the week. _

_ -good luck pigs _

“What kind of cryptic bullshit is that?” Catra asked, unnerved.

“I don't know,” Adora answered grimly. “But it came with a ziploc of hair that we assume belongs to Marlena. We’ll need it tested to know for sure but… I can't figure out what shadow’s little birdies means.”

“Maybe they're talking about a bird's shadow,” Bow supplied, unhelpfully. “Or a shadow bird. Are either of those nicknames for people around here? Or in the music industry?”

“Either of those would be a lame ass name, so  _ no _ ,” Lonnie said, crossing her arms over her chest. Catra read the letter again. The word ‘shadow’ wasn’t capitalized like a name, but- but maybe it was in reference to Weaver. That was the only thing that made sense at the moment.

“It's probably in reference to Shadow Weaver,” Catra blurted out. “Our band’s manager.”

Adora’s head snapped up violently for like, the third time that day, “I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?” She looked mad. No, scratch that- she looked furious, so furious in fact, Catra thought smoke was going to start billowing out of her ears.

“She’s your manager?” Bow asked, slightly alarmed. One of Catra’s ears flickered in confusion. First of all, how did Bow- a man Catra had just met- know about Shadow Weaver? Were him and Adora more than just work partners? Were they friends? What had she told him about their upbringing? And second, why did either of them  _ care _ ? Why did Bow look worried? Why was Adora  _ fuming _ ? There were just too many questions that needed answers, and that wasn’t even including the missing girl on their hands.

“Yes, but- so what? Why does that matter?” Catra asked. Adora’s eyes widened fractionally and Catra swore she saw a trace of fear there, but it was gone before she had time to process it. 

“Because… it means this letter- this  _ threat _ \- involves you three and Rogelio. And your lives are potentially in danger.” Adora let those words sink in for a minute before turning to Bow. 

“No one leaves this house until they have been questioned. We're gonna need more officers. And call Entrapta. We’re gonna need forensics asap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah in this universe, Adora wrote those FOB and Drake lyrics. Bite me.
> 
> Also, I unironically still pronounce base as bass when refering to music. I am physically unable to say base. and so I included it in this story because it haunts me every day of my life.


	3. the monument of memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is literally no difference between the midwest and hell right now :) love that for us :) love not having toes or fingers anymore :) I had to call on the spirits via ouija board and ask them to type it for me, so if there's any mistakes, i refuse to take the blame.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

**august, present day: adora**

Every single one of Adora’s thoughts were colored with anxiety. All she could think about was the fact that Catra was in danger- real, tangible  _ danger _ \- and she was stuck pacing in Micah’s office, doing  _ nothing  _ about it. She glanced at the clock in the corner of the room and grit her teeth. The formal questioning was taking way too long for Adora’s taste. Normally she had the patience of a saint- well, maybe not, but things really needed to get rolling if they were going to solve this case and keep her former friends safe and now Adora was hyper aware of everything that could possibly be perceived as a threat. An officer who moved too fast, a creak of the door, the dropping of a pen; it was overloading her senses, pumping cortisol through her system at an alarming rate.

Though Adora had made sure to at least look like she was calm and collected while in the presence of Catra and the rest of them, the reality was that she was fucking  _ loosing  _ it. Her body had been in fight or flight mode since discovering the note threatening the band members and nothing she did could slow the erratic pounding in her chest nor the tension in her muscles.

“Adora, stop worrying,” Micah said to her, as if saying the words would make it so. “We’ll have a ppd on each of them by the end of the day, and it’ll be the best of the best since they’re paying for it. I’m actually quite surprised they don’t have bodyguards on them already, given their popularity. And if you’re that worried, you- and Bow, if he wants to join you- can take a half day and stay with them.” Micah folded his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair. “I know you have personal stakes in this case- Glimmer has mentioned a few times how you used to be in that band- but if you need me to take you off-”

“No!” Adora yelled, stopping in her tracks and turning on Micah. The surprise on Micah’s face culled her agitation fractionally. This was completely unprofessional.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid, _ Adora thought. She smoothed out her shirt and offered a weak smile, “Sorry. I mean- no. I can-”

There was a knock on the door and Adora’s heart nearly exploded.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Bow said, cracking the door open. “But we’ve got all the information we need from The Horde members and Adam Cole. Mr. Cole has been sent to a hotel while forensics are at his house, but the band members are waiting in the lobby with a few officers. What do you want us to do?”

Adora looked to Micah, who was already looking at her, knowingly. She gave her boss a grateful nod before turning to Bow.

“Micah said the protection detail won’t be available until later today but I don’t really want them wandering a police station until then so… are you okay with escorting them home? Mermista said Catra’s place was… decently safe.” 

Which it was. After the information had been pulled from each of The Horde member’s files, Adora looked up where each of them lived. For  _ safety purposes _ of course. It was definitely  _ not  _ because she wanted to know if Catra had gone ahead with their plan to move to the East Side and live in a nice apartment with  _ Scorpia  _ instead of her. The amount of relief that washed over her when she found that they were living separately and actually quite far from each other was Herculean. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed to relish in that relief because it was quickly followed by guilt. Who was she to feel good about Catra not being in a relationship? Not that she  _ wasn’t  _ in a relationship. 

Adora might be a bit slow when it came to the nuances of people, but walking in on her and…  _ Adam _ was by no means subtle. Catra might as well have put up a sign saying  _ Just had sex. Come back later _ . Actually, Adora wished she had put up a sign, or at least a sock on the door. Then she wouldn’t have barged in like the idiot she was and had her heart shattered once again by the person it belonged to. At least she didn’t walk in on them actually  _ doing it _ . That would have been enough for her to pluck out her eyes and roam the country as a hermit.

“Sure, I’ve always wanted to be a bodyguard. We taking them home then?” Bow asked, still hovering in the doorway.

“Yeah, Catra’s,” Adora said.

After much grumbling from Catra about- well, everything- and a few choice cuss words from Lonnie about how she hated cops- which, okay,  _ fair-  _ they were all about ready to head out. Adora asked the four of them to wear bulletproof vests while they were transported, but that did not go over well and only led to more grumbling.

“I’m not wearing a damn vest, but I will take this,” Lonnie said smugly, snatching the hat off Adora’s head and securing it snugly on her own.

“Why?” Adora asked simply, though she could not keep a smile from her face. It was nice being able to fall back into her familiar friendly patterns with Lonnie.

“We’re kind of famous, Adora. This’ll keep the paparazzi at bay. Besides, I think I wear it better.” Lonnie winked at Adora good naturedly which pulled a snort out of the blonde and a growl out of Catra. They both turned to the feline, who brushed past them and into the SUV. Goosebumps ran up her arm where Catra had brushed it, and she watched her climb into the back seat with Scorpia hot on her tail. 

Adora was more than grateful that Catra had changed into a hoodie and some jeans before their journey to the police station. She almost choked on her tongue when she caught sight of that sinfully short crop top. And criminally small pair of panties. And no-  _ Ugh, pull it together, Adora. You’re not a teenage boy who nuts after seeing a girl’s shoulder. Grow up. _

“Some things never change,” Lonnie said, amused. Rogelio grunted his agreement.

As the lot of them gathered into the SUV (which was notably semi-bullet proof, but Adora wasn’t about to tell them that), Adora started the engine and the radio came on, playing one of the band’s songs.

“Oh, I love this one!” Scorpia exclaimed from the back row, shifting in her seat so hard in excitement that it shook the SUV.

“Me too,” Bow agreed.

“Catra, you remember when we were trying to come up with one last song for our second album and Ms. Weaver was working us into the ground?” Scorpia asked, throwing an arm around Catra’s shoulders with way too much enthusiasm. “Gosh, Rogelio and Lonnie were so exhausted they fell asleep in the studio hallway, and it wasn’t even carpeted! But you just pulled these lyrics out of your personal stash and it was perfect! And then you and I stayed up until the early morning putting music to it, drinking coffee, and hanging out. It was so much fun. You remember that, right?”

“No,” Catra muttered from beside Scorpia, staring out the window, a hint of red tingeing her cheeks.

Lonnie slammed the door to the front row passenger seat closed and scoffed, “Fuck, Catra. Even I remember that night and I spent most of it on some disgusting linoleum floors. That shit was real and raw. One of the only good songs from that album. The rest was overproduced nonsense.”

Rogelio said something then in that reptilian language Adora wished she had gotten around to learning. Lonnie nodded her head like he just made a good point and then raised a brow.

“You know, that is a good question. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it,” Lonnie said as Adora pulled out of the parking lot. She turned around in her seat to peer back at Catra who rolled her eyes. “So who was that song about? One of the girls you were  _ dating _ at the time? I never thought it was anything other than physical with them, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe one of them actually found a way into that cold, dead heart of yours.” Lonnie glanced at Adora briefly, then her eyes were back on Catra with a wicked smirk, “Or was it-”

“No one,” Catra snapped, glaring at Lonnie. “The song wasn’t about  _ anyone _ .”

“Oh?” Lonnie said smugly. “Because I don’t know of anyone in the business who can write good lyrics without a muse. Especially about  _ love _ . And if we’re being honest, the lyrics remind me of a certain doomed romance that never took place in your childhood.”

_ Whoa, what?  _ Adora thought, stealing a glance at Catra in the rearview mirror. She looked upset, a snarl setting in as she glared daggers at her bandmate. Did she really have an unrequited love from her childhood? Who? It couldn’t have been Scorpia; the girl was head over heels for her back then. She still was. So then who? Was it someone she had met? Someone she knew? Was it- no, scratch that. Adora didn’t want to know. Knowing would be too painful. It was better if the person remained nameless, faceless. An entity that didn’t entirely exist.

“Fuck off,” Catra growled. “It’s way too early in the morning for this.”

“It's past noon, actually,” Scorpia supplied cheerfully.

Catra made a sound of disgust, “Lonnie, if you don’t shut up and change the station, I’m going to slap you.”

“Go ahead and try it. You’re like five-foot-nothing. I bet you can’t even reach me from the back seat,” Lonnie taunted.

“Hey guys,” Scorpia nervously interjected, fiddling with her claws. “Can we maybe not argue? Especially over the radio of all things?”

“Tell your girlfriend that,” Lonnie smirked, turning back into her seat and crossing her arms.

“I am not her girlfriend!” Catra hissed.

Rogelio mumbled something Adora didn’t understand and Lonnie snorted and agreed with him.

Catra’s jaw dropped, “Fuck you, Rogelio. Now you’re taking her side?”

Adora tried to hold in her laugh, she really did, but oh how she missed this pointless, stupid banter. It took her back to the days when they would just sit in the garage jamming out and mindlessly arguing over whether or not The Titanic was actually good. Adora and Scorpia insisted that it was. Lonnie and Catra thought otherwise. It was probably the last time those two actually agreed on something.

“What?” Lonnie, Scorpia, and Catra asked in unison.

“Sorry, it's just- you guys have not changed one bit. I missed the… this. I missed this.”

Lonnie punched her lightly in the arm, “Well you could have been a part of it if you hadn’t dropped us all like a bad habit.”

Though Lonnie’s intentions were wholesome, bringing up Adora’s abandonment of the group was still a sore spot- for all of them. And it probably would be forever. Because it wasn’t that she just left. It was also that she never told them  _ why  _ after years of promising to stay. To them, it must have looked like she  _ did _ drop them like a bad habit- most of all Catra.

“Not my finest moment,” Adora stated in a near whisper.

And just like that, the ride was soured. Adora ran a nervous hand through her hair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, both inside and out. Her shirt, once bearably disagreeable on her skin now felt scratchy and agonizingly  _ wrong. _ She tugged at the collar of it, trying to ease the discomfort but it only made things worse. The situation was quickly becoming a suffocating nightmare. Adora’s breathing quickened, jaw clenched tight and shoulders rolling under the fabric, desperately searching for reprieve. When she found none, she tugged harder, shifting in the leather seat, trying to find some sort of relief from the irritation until Bow leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. She glanced back at him and was greeted with his worrisome look.  _ Shit, shit shit.  _ Adora dropped her hand back to the steering wheel fighting the growing need to just tear off the shirt and throw it out the window.

She risked a side glance at Lonnie who seemed to not have noticed her and then checked the rearview mirror. Rogelio and Scorpia were none the wiser and it appeared that her near nervous meltdown had gone unnoticed until-

Until Catra.

Because of  _ course _ she noticed. She always did. Even after all these years.

She caught Catra’s gaze in the mirror, her eyes showing the kind of gentle concern that was reminiscent of their childhood. It was the very same expression she had on her face whenever she would hold Adora while she cried or tried to coax her out of one of her many panic attacks. It was an expression that always made her feel loved.

Adora tore her eyes away from Catra’s. She couldn’t deal with this right now. There was no time to process what that meant- if she actually cared, or if it was just pity. It was probably just pity. It had to be pity. Catra had been nothing but mean since that morning, and rightfully so. It was all well deserved.

The rest of the trip went by quietly in the worst way possible. The silence hung in the air heavy and unyielding. Bow tried to break it a couple of times, but it was mostly met with mumbled one word replies. By the time it became stifling, they were pulling into Catra’s gated neighborhood. They passed mansion after elaborate mansion as Google Maps led them down the newly paved road.

Just as they were about to pull into Catra’s driveway- which was the size of two full tennis courts- Lonnie’s phone rang. She checked the screen before letting out a string of creative curse words and answering.

“Yeah, Weaver? What is it?”

Adora froze in the middle of turning off the vehicle. A flurry of emotions washed over her, all of them bad.  _ Come on, move it! She can’t hurt you anymore. You know that.  _ Adora willed herself to get it together before someone noticed her lapse in action. By some great miracle she did, though her hands shook as she ripped the keys from the ignition and fumbled to open her door. Bow must have noticed because he gave her a concerned look as the lot of them headed for the front door. She waved him off only semi-convincingly.

The second Catra finished punching in the insanely long security code, she opened the door and Adora was met with gaudy, soulless architecture decorated by a nauseating amount of gold plated fixtures and furniture. Every glaring surface looked spotless, perfectly curated to show off just how expensive it all was. Adora hated it. The place looked sterile. It didn’t even look like anyone lived here, let alone Catra.

“You actually live here?” Adora blurted out. She didn’t mean for it to sound accusing, but it came out that way. When Catra shot her a  _ look _ , she stuttered out, “I-I mean, it's nice and all but-”  _ it doesn’t feel like you,  _ is how Adora wanted to finish that sentence, but did she really know Catra well enough to say that? Years of separation pointed to no.

“It’s ugly as fuck,” Lonnie stated as she ended the call, throwing herself onto one of the couches in the living room. “It’s okay, you can say it. After all, it's the truth.”

“Not my fault the place looks like a fucking Midas temple,” Catra replied bitterly, curling up in the loveseat. “You can blame Weaver for that.”

“Speaking of, she’s not coming,” Lonnie said. “Apparently, the news is going insane over the whole kidnapping case and she’s running damage control right now.” 

Adora groaned, “How could they possibly know about this already? It happened in a gated community at an exclusive party less than twenty four hours ago.”

“Adora, I think you forget that people practically know everything about us,” Lonnie said, stretching her arms out behind her head.

“Yeah but it can’t be that invasive,” Adora replied, still skeptical.

“Can we turn on the tv and see what they know?” Bow asked. “It would be good to know what we’re dealing with if we come in contact with the public.”

“Fine,” was Catra’s reply. She was in a  _ mood _ \- had been all morning from what Adora could tell, but at least she complied. She turned on the tv- which was as massive as everything else in this house- and without a moment’s notice, they were bombarded with images of all of them getting into an SUV.

“ _... Lonnie’s blonde mystery lover. Who is she and will it last? Will she finally settle down with someone or will this be another one of her conquests? _ ” One of the commentators asked.

_ “Well, John, from what I can tell, they were caught sharing a baseball cap…” _

Adora couldn't believe what she was hearing- or seeing for that matter. How did they already have photos up of them from less than half an hour ago? And what on earth had possessed them to think her and Lonnie were… Adora’s face grew hot at what the newscasters were implying, so much so that she had to watch the screen through her fingers.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Lonnie laughed. Adora was flushed beyond measure, burying her face in her hands.

_ “And it seems to me John, that they were getting real cozy with each other. Some sources noted that this ‘mystery lover’ held the door open for her and kissed before getting into the vehicle.” _

At that, Lonnie laughed harder and even Bow hid his amusement behind a well timed cough. Adora had no idea how they managed to laugh at this. She was flushed all the way to the tip of her ears, her cheeks red hot at what the newscasters were insinuating. It was embarrassing beyond measure and half the information they were giving out wasn’t even  _ true _ .

As Lonnie’s laugh died down she was able to get out a few sentences, “See, Adora? The paparazzi are fucking vultures. By now they’ve probably tried to work out how many times we had sex in the police station.”

Adora groaned at that, “But we  _ didn’t. _ ” She began wringing out her hands. “I guess- At least they don’t have any pictures of my face. They don’t know who I am.”

“Yet,” Lonnie chuckled.

“This isn’t a joke, Lonnie,” Catra hissed, her eyes flickering over to Adora for the briefest of moments. “This shit sticks.”

Lonnie rolled her eyes, “Whatever.” It was clear she wanted to continue arguing, but the once over she gave Adora’s wrecked state must have calmed the beast down enough to cut it short.

“Maybe we can work on the next album now? I know everything is crazy, but Weaver did say she wanted us to start,” Scorpia suggested hopefully. There was a collective groan from the rest of the band.

“I vote no,” Lonnie said, pushing off the couch. “Come on Rogelio, I’m really in the mood for that smoothie blend you’re so good at making.” Lonnie exited the room without another word. Rogelio said something that Adora didn’t understand and then followed her out.

“I think I’m going to check around the house,” Bow said, hands on his hips. “I know the place has already been secured by our guys but it never hurts to be thorough.” With that, he spared a second to silently check in with Adora before trying his luck with the maze that was this house.

“Looks like it's just you and me wildcat!” Scorpia exclaimed, jumping from her seat with way too much enthusiasm.

“Well, I'm not going to be able to write shit with a big blonde bimbo standing over my shoulder and watching my every move,” Catra stated, voice tainted with annoyance, ears twitching. Adora frowned at that, visibly deflating.

“If you wanted me to leave you could have just asked,” Adora said, trying to keep her voice even. With every harsh comment that fell from Catra’s lips, Adora felt more and more like this was a mistake. A  _ huge _ mistake. The third biggest mistake of her life, only two slots below leaving Catra behind in the group home all those years ago. 

How  _ ironic  _ that the biggest mistake of her life was her  _ leaving  _ when Catra didn’t want her to, and her third was her  _ staying  _ when Catra didn’t want her to. She should not have volunteered for this, no matter how badly she wanted to see Catra. Because Catra clearly did not want to see her. At all. She didn’t even want to scream at Adora again or call her names or shove her. She just wanted her  _ gone _ .

So that’s what Adora did. She left to find Bow and give Catra the space she so desperately craved.

**october, sophomore year of high school: catra**

“I can't do this, Catra,” were the first words out of Adora’s mouth when Catra found her huddled in the tub of Scorpia’s upstairs bathroom. Catra’s heart broke watching the poor girl shake as she hugged her knees to her chest like doing so was the only thing that could save her from another panic attack. You would have never thought that only ten minutes prior, she was ripping Jimmy Page a new one with her guitar solo for Stairway to Heaven.

“I can’t do this,” Adora’s trembling voice muttered again, burying her face into her knees as Catra found a spot next to the tub to get comfortable. Without uttering a word, she reached over the lip of the tub and placed a soothing hand on Adora’s back. She could  _ feel  _ how labored Adora’s breathing was and her muscles were  _ tense _ , like corded wire pulled taut and ready to snap. Immediately, Catra started up a roaring purr and began rubbing circles into those hard planes of muscle, trying to coax out the stress taking root in her sinews and making sure to apply the right amount of pressure because Adora was particular about those things. Catra observed her carefully as the minutes ticked by. Oh so slowly, the rigidity gave way to something softer and Adora’s muscles became pliant under her fingers.

Eventually, after Adora had gained control over her breathing, she surfaced from between her knees and looked over to Catra meekly. Her voice was a little hoarse as she asked, “Was… was it weird I just took off? Are Lonnie and Scorpia upset with me?”

Catra bit her lip in an attempt to hide her enamoured smile. Of course Adora would be worried about her bandmates instead of her own health. She wanted to chastise Adora, tell her to focus on what’s important, focus on  _ herself _ , but with the way she was looking at her, Catra just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Yeah, it was weird, but it's okay. Lonnie and Scorpia aren’t mad at you,” Catra answered softly. Then, with a more humorous tone, “And if they are, we can just tell them you had explosive diarrhea. They’ll sympathize with that.”

“Please don't do that,” Adora said with a weak laugh.

Catra smiled, “I'm messing with you, dork. Now come on.” She nodded her head towards the bathroom door. Adora paled.

“I- I don't know if I can do this,” Adora stuttered, tugging at the back of her shirt collar.

Catra bit the inside of her cheek, going over her possible courses of action. She didn’t want to send Adora spiraling again by pushing her too hard, but spending the rest of the night on the floor of Scorpia’s bathroom probably wasn’t the best thing for her either. Catra laid a decisive hand over Adora’s where it was pulling at the collar. Her wide, blue eyes shot up to meet her own.

“Of course you can do this. Adora you can do  _ anything _ .” Catra squeezed Adora’s hand. “But listen, if you don't want to, we're not going to force you. We’ll just cut it short or finish off with another song. It’s not a big deal. We’re giving those plebs a free show, anyways. We can do what we want.”

Adora broke her gaze in favor of staring at a shampoo bottle on the far side of the tub. She nodded her head, but didn’t look all that convinced about anything Catra had just said. It sent a pang of longing right through Catra’s chest. All she wanted to do was wrap Adora up in her arms and kiss her all over, whispering all the words of praise and comfort she knew. But that was out of the question. No doubt if Catra tried  _ that _ , Adora would freak and never talk to her again. Or touch her again. Or even want to live under the same roof.

But maybe she could get away with…

Catra leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to the side of Adora’s cheek, feeling the soft heat of Adora’s unblemished skin on her lips. It sparked a roaring fire within Catra, making the fur along her spine stand on end and the tip of her tail whip lazily back and forth with contentment. It was such a small gesture, one Adora had given to her plenty of times (though with a more platonic meaning behind it) but something about the tender intimacy of the moment had Catra’s heart hammering against her ribcage. She hadn’t even realized she closed her eyes until they fluttered back open as she pulled away. And was met with Adora’s wide eyed stare.

For a terrifying, heart-stopping moment, Catra thought she had crossed a line.  _ The line _ . The only line she swore she would never cross.

“What- what was that for?” Adora asked. One of her hands absently drifted up to her cheek as she searched Catra’s expression. She prayed to whatever gods existed out there that Adora couldn’t see the absolute  _ panic  _ that she was certain marred her features.

“To pull you out of your own head,” Catra said as she shrugged. As if the nonchalant shrug would make her lie any more convincing. Adora just continued staring at her. “Why? Was it- was it not okay?” She hated the tinge of insecurity that laced her voice when she asked.

“What? No, it was fine!” Adora assured her, scrambling out of the tub. “You’ve just never-”

The sound of the door slamming open cut Adora off.

“There you guys are. I’ve been searching- what am I looking at here?” Lonnie asked, crossing her rather defined arms over her chest and looking down at the two of them with a raised brow and a growing smirk.

“Nothing,” Adora replied quickly, beating Catra to it.

“Really?” Lonnie asked incredulously. “Because it looks like you were just about to kiss Catra before I walked in.” Catra could see why Lonnie would think that. Adora was leaning over the lip of the tub and into Catra’s personal space with a hand on her shoulder. To the untrained eye- or to someone just  _ barging in unannounced _ \- it did appear as if Adora was about to lay one on her.

“W-what? No!” Adora exclaimed, pulling herself away from Catra like she had been burned and climbing out of the tub. “Catra’s like my sister. That would be- that would be  _ gross _ .”

_ Gross _ . That’s what Adora had called her. Well, not  _ her _ , but the act of kissing her, which was almost just as bad. Almost just as humiliating. Almost just as crushing. Catra wanted to cry. No, scratch that. She wanted to lock herself away in a different bathroom, preferably one not currently occupied and equipped with a decent lock so she could cry until she was out of tears and her voice was hoarse from screaming. She knew,  _ she knew _ Adora didn’t see her that way, but hearing her say it out loud was enough to shatter her once again. 

How many times could the same thing break her heart? Catra was still counting.

“Uh-huh,” Lonnie said, sounding bored. “So are we going to finish our setlist or not?” 

**august, present day: catra**

“Fuck,” Catra muttered sharply under her breath as she watched Adora’s sullen, retreating form, looking like a kicked puppy. She had definitely hurt her feelings that time. And for what? Nothing, that’s what. On her best day, Catra was not a thinker. She was a boiling pot of impulses with loose morals and an even looser tongue. It had gotten her this far in life, but then again, it had  _ only  _ gotten her this far in life. And it was definitely not where she wanted to be.

Why couldn’t she keep her fucking mouth shut? Sometimes, Catra really did believe she liked all the suffering she put herself through.

“Uh, Catra?” Scorpia asked gently. She walked over and knelt down next to the feline who was nestled down and seething in her loveseat. “Are you okay?”

“Why would you think I’m not?”

“Well, you and Adora-” 

Catra growled, baring her sharp teeth. Scorpia let out a breath and gave a slight shake of her head.

“Look wildcat, what you’ve been doing with Adam and- and all those others, it's not healthy. And it's only getting worse. And now that Adora is going to be in your life, at least for a little while, I think you need-”

“I don't  _ need  _ anything,” Catra barked, challenging her friend for no other reason than the fact that she was feeling incredibly attacked right now.

“But-”

“ _ Scorpia. _ ” Catra glared at her with something deadly. Then she lowered her voice a few octaves and continued, __ “Listen to what I’m saying. Sometimes you need to do something bad to stop yourself from doing something worse. That's what- that’s what  _ all of this is _ . If I wasn’t fucking some broad or… messing around with Adam or  _ whatever _ , I probably would have wrapped my car around a tree years ago.” Scorpia’s breath caught in her throat and she gave Catra the saddest look she had ever seen on her. She looked ready to cry to be honest and Catra just couldn’t deal with that, so she reached out and laid her hand on Scorpia’s arm, suddenly pleading. “So can we please not talk about this anymore?”

There was unbroken silence between them while Scorpia searched Catra’s eyes for… well, Catra didn’t know what she was looking for. But then, oh so quietly, she broke the silence, “Do you still have feelings for Adora?”

One step forward two steps back.

Catra blew out a harsh breath, “I am not having this conversation with you right now.”

“Then when?” Scorpia pushed. “Because now seems like the perfect time.”

“How about never? Yeah, that sounds good to me,” Catra said, nimbly pulling herself out of the loveseat and storming off to wherever the hell her feet were taking her before Scorpia could get in another word.

**october, sophomore year of high school: adora**

Somehow, Adora found the courage to finish the set, singing the song she wrote with a nearly flawless run. She wasn’t as charismatic as Catra when she took center stage, nor as gifted in the vocal department, but her peers loved it all the same and erupted into applause as they finished out the song. Adora didn’t care too much about any of that. She was just grateful for making it through without throwing up all over the front of the crowd, and she had Catra to thank for that. And she was  _ going  _ to thank her for that.

Usually after a performance, Catra and her would embrace, perhaps give each other noogies until one of them escalated it into a full on play fight and Scorpia or Lonnie had to tell them to knock it off because _ they were in public _ . This time, Adora spotted her chatting up Scorpia which was odd, but not unheard of. As she was about to make her way over to them, someone blocked her path.

“Hey,” the girl said, a bright smile lighting up her face. Adora recognized her from their Anatomy and Physiology class. They were often partnered up during labs.  _ What was her name again? Harley? Hallie? Wait, no, Hazel. _

“Hey Hazel,” Adora replied, trying to match the warmth of the smile her classmate was giving. It proved more difficult than usual since she was really in a hurry to go see Catra. She had already broken their post-performance ritual and every second that ticked by without it flashed before her eyes, taunting her as those seconds accumulated into minutes. It made her stomach twist into knots of anxiety. “Can I do something for you?” Adora tacked on, stealing a glance over Hazel’s shoulder at Catra before turning her full attention on her classmate.

Hazel tucked her hands into the back pockets of her ripped up jean shorts, “There’s nothing you can do  _ for  _ me, but I was wondering if you wanted to do something  _ with  _ me.”

Adora’s head tilted ever so slightly, “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? I’m asking you out,” Hazel laughed. Adora blinked at her a little dumbly. This was not the first time she had been asked out, but it was the first time she had been asked out with words and not a tongue down her throat, so yes, she was a bit disoriented.

“Oh, okay,” was all Adora could get out verbally and she wanted to smack herself in the forehead. Now was not the time for her brain to short circuit.

Taking her miscommunication as disinterest, Hazel said, “It’s okay to say no, I just thought I’d ask.”

Adora threw her hands out, “No! No, I mean- yes. No as in no I don’t want to say no… meaning yes.”  _ Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself this time _ , Adora thought to herself. She covered her face with her hands as she let out a frustrated groan.

“You’re so weird,” Hazel laughed.

“Sorry,” Adora automatically replied, dragging her hands down her face.

“Don’t be, it's cute.” Hazel winked at her before pulling out a napkin from her back pocket and slipping it into the front pocket of her Fleetwood Mac hoodie.

“Here’s my number. When you feel like hitting me up, shoot me a text,” Hazel said, wrapping her arms around Adora and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

With that she was gone, leaving Adora a reddening mess, her hand drifting up to the cheek Hazel had just kissed on it’s own accord. It was the same cheek Catra had kissed not that long ago and that fact made her feel ashamed. Like she was cheating on Catra or something. But that couldn’t be possible, right? Her and Catra weren’t together, not like… not like that. They were just friends. Good friends. Always would be. So logically, this was okay.

“Damn Adora, even with no game you still pick up the hottest chicks,” Lonnie said, coming up from behind and throwing an arm over her shoulders. “Good job with the song, by the way. For a moment there, I thought you were gonna choke.”

“I did choke. Catra got me back on my feet.”

“So that’s what I walked in on. I suppose you were going to give her a nice big kiss to thank her for saving your High School Musical career.”

Adora shoved Lonnie away from her, shaking her head, “That’s  _ not-  _ you know that’s not what was happening.” She crossed her arms and huffed indignantly.

“Fine, whatever,” Lonnie conceded, trying to hold in her laugh. “Guess you’re not Catra’s type anyway.”

“What?”

Lonnie gestured over to where Scorpia had been replaced by some third party who was trailing her hand up and down Catra’s arm and crowding her against the side of the house, whispering something in her ear. When she pulled away, Catra threw her head back and let out a squeaky laugh and that was reserved  _ for Adora’s ears only _ . Without thinking- and forgetting all about Lonnie- Adora stormed over to them, a swelling rage expanding in her chest. 

“Hey Catra,” Adora interrupted, sliding into the pair’s personal space and making it awkward for all three of them. It forced the girl to take a couple steps back and out of reach of Catra. “Can I talk to you?”

“Shoot,” Catra said, a hint of annoyance in her tone. She leaned back against the brick of Scorpia’s house, barely sparing Adora a glance. Why was she being so… cold? Did she do something wrong? Was it what Lonnie said? Was it what she said afterwards?

“I meant-” Adora briefly scanned her eyes over the girl who was spectating this conversation. She was tall, taller than Adora by more than half a foot and her hair was just as blonde. For some reason it made Adora feel threatened, and she wanted to bare her blunt teeth at the girl like some territorial beast. She settled for crossing her arms over her chest and tapping out a soothing rhythm on her arm. “I meant can I talk to you privately?”

The only indication that Catra had heard her was a flick of her ear and the irritated sigh that fell from her lips.

“Fine,” Catra said before turning to the girl whose name Adora still didn’t know and winked. “I’ll talk to you later.”

They exchanged goodbyes and then Adora watched her retreating form disappear into the straggling crowds of classmates. Adora watched until she was long gone, staring holes into the dark space that she vanished from. She wasn’t mad that someone was probably flirting with Catra, but she was upset that Catra had decided to ignore her and instead seek out Scorpia and then a  _ stranger  _ rather than finish their post-performance ritual.

“What did you want, Adora?” Catra asked, snapping Adora’s attention away from the dark that Scorpia’s back patio lights couldn’t reach and onto the magicat.

“Did I do something wrong?” Adora blurted.

“Why would you think that?”

“Well you- you didn’t do the post-performance ritual with me. And then I found you with some stranger and-”

“She’s not a stranger. She’s in my P.E. class,” Catra said sharply, tail whipping behind her. Adora bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at her shoes, ashamed. She felt stupid and embarrassed that she had to confront Catra about some idiotic routine and possibly ruin her chances of getting a date in the process. After everything Catra had done for her, the least Adora could do was give her the space she deserved to be her own person outside of Adora’s shadow, but, just like always, she had found a way to botch things up between her and Catra.

“I’m sorry,” Adora sniffed, thumbing at the worn fabric of her hood. She heard Catra let out a long sigh, her head tipping back to thud against the brick wall.

“ _ Fuck _ , Adora. Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Catra said softly, coaxing her head up to meet her gaze with a gentle finger under her chin. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she repeated with determination.

Adora wished she could believe it, but, “But I chased away one of your suitors.”

Catra let out a chuckle, dropping her finger, “One of? You mean my only one. I think you’re overestimating my attractiveness.”

Adora smiled and shook her head, “Nah. I think you’re  _ underestimating _ .”

“Sure. When I’m thirty and still single, we’ll revisit this conversation.”

Adora laughed, “If you’re still single at thirty, I’ll marry you myself.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Adora wanted to smash her head into a brick wall because friends _ did not say that to each other _ . Coincidentally enough, there was one only a few feet away and it was calling to her by name. 

But then Catra’s lips split into an impossibly wide grin, the lightest of blushes coloring her cheeks, and she said, “Okay, dummy. I’ll hold you to that.”

**august, present day: catra**

It turns out, Catra’s feet had a mind of their own, following the scent of Adora through the house and carrying the magicat to her. Whether she  _ wanted  _ to see her or not didn’t even matter. Catra  _ needed  _ to see her. Some part of her that she had wanted to bury seven feet under the moment Adora stepped out of her life still ached with a longing that demanded relief. And if Catra was being honest with herself, she wanted to mend things between them. Their relationship may have been bent beyond recognition, but it wasn’t  _ broken-  _ how could it ever break when Catra was willing to do anything for Adora, forgive the unforgivable? __ Adora may not have been one for keeping promises, but Catra was. A promise was an oath, a decree, an unbreakable bond that was pretty much the only guiding principle she had left.

Catra had promised long ago that she would always be there for Adora (whether that meant as a friend, a confidant, a caregiver or, when she allowed herself to hope, a lover) and whatever form that promise ended up taking on… she would just have to deal with it. She had spent far too long neglecting her promise.

It took more than a few minutes to find Adora within the labyrinth of her own house, and when she did, Catra was greeted with the sight of Bow and her in the midst of a heated, whispered argument that she could not pick up, despite her excellent hearing. If the way Adora crossed her arms over her chest and refused to meet her friend’s eye was anything to go by, then she was definitely losing the argument. Though, Bow appeared just about as distressed as she was and there was no malice in his expression, only concern. Catra coughed into her hand to announce her presence.

“I’m going for a walk. Do one of you two bozos need to come with me or…?” Catra asked, leaning against the doorway to her second living room (or was it her third?). Both turned their attention on her, looking slightly abashed. Bow recovered first, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, it's probably best for one of us to escort you,” Bow said, tightening his tie.

“Cool. Come on, Adora,” Catra said, going for nonchalant and hoping she didn’t sound as desperate to talk to Adora as she felt. After leaving that awful conversation with Scorpia she was determined to do something right today. Just one thing. Because she  _ promised. _

“You want  _ me  _ to…? But I thought- okay,” Adora fumbled before finally caving.

The journey through the house and into the backyard was done so in silence. Silence that Catra so desperately wished to break but didn’t know how. She wasn’t going to pretend she knew exactly how Adora was feeling, but she was pretty certain confusion was high on the list. She had been shitting on Adora all day and genuinely making life harder for her and now she had just personally asked Adora to walk with her.  _ Alone _ . The girl was at least feeling a little confused.

Walking a slow path side by side, Adora stole a quick glance at her out of the corner of her eye before briefly looking back at the house. This happened maybe three or four times before she finally found the nerve to speak up (of which Catra was incredibly grateful).

“So…” Adora started, her voice giving away how unsure of herself she was. “You and Scorpia are-”

“We’re not dating, Adora,” Catra said quickly, wanting to dispel any conflicting reports right here and now. She hated how desperate she sounded, but she couldn’t deny the fact that more than anything, she wanted Adora to know that she wasn't seeing anyone. That she was  _ available _ . Despite knowing Adora didn’t care. “I’m- I’m not even dating Adam.”

“I  _ was  _ going to comment on the fact that you were still good friends.”

“Oh.” Well now Catra definitely felt stupid. She had a strong desire to slap a palm into her face and run back into the house, but that would only serve to make her feel even dumber.

Adora tugged at the collar of her shirt, “But since you brought it up… why aren’t you? Dating Scorpia, I mean. You two seem to be... compatible and all that other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Catra asked, genuinely interested in finding out what Adora meant by that.

“You- you know what I mean,” Adora said, biting down on her toothpick and pulling on the front of her Hawiian shirt so hard, the top button slipped it’s hold and exposed the hollow of her throat.

“Actually, I don't.”

At this, a blush started seeping into Adora’s cheeks and she fumbled with her hands awkwardly, “You know, the…” Catra watched as Adora attempted a crude imitation of the intercourse gesture with her hands. “You know?” In spite of herself, a humorous smile found its way onto Catra’s lips.

“ _ What _ ?” Catra asked, a heavy dose of mirth in her voice.

“I know you and Scorpia are…  _ in tune  _ when it comes to…  _ intimacy _ .” Adora made the crude gesture again, cringing. Catra stopped in her tracks and this time, she couldn’t stop herself from full on laughing. It was the first time in so long that someone had actually been able to pull the joyful sound from her, and it fell from her lips so easily. 

“ _ How _ old are you again?” Catra asked when she had calmed down from her fit of laughter.

“Uh, twenty-three?” Adora replied. She was flustered, that much Catra could tell, but there was also a smile on her face, and suddenly, they were sixteen again, sharing a terrible joke and whispering about nothing in particular, trying to hold in their giggles while the night bled on.

“And you still can’t say the word sex?”

Adora shrugged, “I guess not.”

Catra chuckled, “You’re so stupid.”

“I know. But wait, why aren't you and Scorpia- I mean she's the perfect choice. Kind, gentle, caring, constant…” Adora listed all of the reasons out on her fingers like she was a middle schooler doing basic maths. “And she's madly in love with you.”

In truth, Catra had considered it; back in her teen years she had dated Scorpia for a few brief weeks, if only to try and make Adora jealous. It was decent, Scorpia was… all those things Adora said she was. She was even pretty good in bed, considering how inexperienced she was. But none of that really mattered because she loved Adora in a way that she loved no one else, and never had loved anyone else, and never would love anyone else. 

“I already chose my mate a long time ago,” Catra said quietly, resuming her walk. She crossed her arms, clutching at her elbows, ears twitching. Adora followed close behind, pressing on with questions.

“Where are they from?”

“Same place I am.”

“Really? The Fright Zone? Is she still around?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Then… why not date them? Or make them your mate, or whatever you want to call it.”

“Because they didn't choose me back.” Catra’s voice cracked as she vocalized her admission.

Adora paused, then nodded her head and refused to meet Catra’s eye. Not that she wanted her too. Whether Adora figured that Catra was talking about her or not was a moot point; Adora did not want to be her mate, not then, not now, not ever, and that fact was what mattered.

“I know that feeling,” Adora said, eyes trained on the grass underfoot as she absently smoothed out the front of her shirt. Catra’s ears burned at the confession. She wanted to know what she meant by that, but she also definitely  _ didn’t _ . She did not want to hear the love of her life reminisce about being in love with some other girl. She would surely explode. So she decided to change the subject.

“I was a bitch earlier.” Catra said it like it was a grievous sin and she was in a confessional with a priest. She turned to Adora, hoping to somehow convey what words she didn’t say:  _ I’m sorry. _

Adora shook her head defiantly, finally meeting her eye, “No- you were just- you were just being  _ you _ .” 

“You didn’t deserve it,” Catra insisted.

“I did deserve it, actually.” Adora fumbled with her fingers, tapping out a pattern over the knuckles of one hand, “But… thank you.” Catra ran a hand through her mane, wondering how many times in the last six years Adora had told that lie to herself about people who had shit on her or screwed her over. Without Catra there to tell her it was  _ not  _ okay, that she  _ didn’t  _ deserve to be treated like that (even though she was sometimes the one dishing it out), she could only imagine the toll it took on Adora’s self-esteem. With luck, Catra would be spending enough time with her to start reversing those harmful habits and maybe, just maybe, start mending the relationship she had nearly destroyed all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever
> 
> please let me know what you think! or don't! maybe just send me nothing, or some hate mail, or rant about how you're tired of living in a society because i sure as hell am


	4. biting words like a wolf howling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter everyone :^) I just wanted to post this before Midterms coming up in the next two weeks because I will most likely be passing away.... no offense to people who enjoy college, but like, what is wrong with you?? (I mean that in the nicest way possible)  
> ANYWAYS...

**september, present day: adora**

Forty-eight hours after the initial kidnapping, the local community had set up a vigil outside Marlena’s house, littering the grass with hundreds of candles. Adora and Bow- accompanied by Glimmer, who  _ insisted  _ on coming because she complained they hadn’t all hung out together in over a week- were parked on the street nearby, observing the amassed individuals, searching for any outliers, any oddities. So far there were none, but that was expected.

Adora snuck a glimpse in the rear view mirror and found Glimmer huddled in the back with a blanket wrapped tight around her frame. Though September just rolled in, it was unusually cold and the light drizzle falling from the sky along with the fog that cocooned the area did nothing to soothe that chill.

“So,” Glimmer began excitedly, popping up in between Bow and Adora, resting her arms on the middle console. “Give me all the juicy details. What’s your ex like now?”

Adora’s eyes metaphorically bulged out of her head at the sound of Glimmer calling Catra her  _ ex _ . She whipped her head over to face Glimmer, “She's  _ not  _ my-” Past Glimmer’s obnoxiously pink head, she saw Bow giving her a look that said _ just let it go _ . Adora blew out a breath, willing herself to do as Bow asked. 

“She’s nice,” Adora said, light as a feather.

Glimmer scoffed in disbelief, “Really? Because that's not how Bow described her.”

“Bow!” Adora scolded.

“Sorry!” he nearly whined. “You know I can't lie! But even you have to admit she is a little mean.”

“She’s not mean. She’s…” Adora dropped her eyes to the steering wheel, trying to come up with the word she was looking for. “... complicated.”

Glimmer snorted from beside her, “We all know complicated is just code for bitch.”

“Hey!” Adora hissed. “She's not a bitch! She's a little… bitchy, sure, but it's part of her charm.”

“Part of her charm  _ my ass _ ,” Glimmer grumbled, flicking Adora in the ear. Then she sobered up a bit. “You’re still in love with her aren't you?”

Adora’s eyes went wide and turned on Glimmer with her jaw hanging open, “What? No- I’m-  _ She- _ ” Glimmer shot her a knowing look and that pulled all the fight out of her. There was no use in lying about it. Adora slumped against her seat, defeated, and shrugged. “Okay so what if I am? It doesn't change anything.” And wasn’t that the truth. It changed absolutely nothing.

“Have you ever actually told her you loved her?”

Adora  _ wanted  _ to. In fact, she half hoped that when Catra saw her they would embrace and everything would be good again, like before. They would hug, probably cry, and then hug some more, and after it all they would curl up together and fall asleep to the sound of Catra’s purr. She was older now, they both were, and she understood her feelings for Catra a lot more and she wasn’t- she wasn’t with  _ Weaver _ anymore, and she was ready to be brave. Those few seconds of bravery would  _ finally  _ give Adora the chance to tell her after all this time that she loved her. In her dreams, Catra said it back to her. It was a foolish dream. In fact, the whole thing was foolish.

“I’m sure she knew,” Adora said quietly, not sure if she believed the words coming out of her mouth. “When we were kids, I’m- I’m sure she knew.”

“But you've never said the words to her directly?” Glimmer pressed, like this was an interrogation and she was trying to get the right answers out of her.

Adora turned in her seat to fully face Glimmer and Bow, staring each of them down with a firm and unwavering resolve, “ _ No _ . And I never will.” Adora used to fantasize about saying those words to her when they were kids, but that’s all it was- a fantasy. She could only imagine the amount of damage saying something like that would do to their tattered relationship at this point. How would a conversation like that even go down?  _ Hey Catra, sorry I left you all those years ago but I’m in love with you.  _ No way. She’d rather endure the horrors of every level of hell  _ twice  _ than find out how that exchange would end.

“Why not?” It was Bow who asked this time.

Adora gnawed on the inside of her cheek and turned her attention back to the vigil, “No offense, but she deserves better than someone who left her to rot with an abusive foster mom.” If Bow or Glimmer noticed the tenseness of her jaw or the tears pricking at her eyes, they said nothing. 

Glimmer laid a hand on Adora’s arm, making her jump, “Adora, that is not on you,” she soothed. “That  _ animal  _ was hurting you too.”

Adora shook her head defiantly, “I shouldn't have left her.”

Glimmer gripped her arm tighter, “Stop it, Adora. You saved yourself from that monster of a woman. I’m sure if Catra knew she’d understand and-”

“You can't tell her.  _ Ever _ .”

“Adora-”

Adora shook off Glimmer’s hand, “No I'm serious, Glimmer. She can’t know.” Adora grit her teeth at the thought of Catra finding out what Weaver did to her. She could picture it in her head, Catra standing there, one hand raised in horror over her mouth as she stared at her with disgust- or maybe pity. Either way, it would be unbearable.

After a tense moment of silence with Glimmer glaring holes into the back of Adora’s head, she relented with a heavy exhale, “Fine. We won't say anything. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't.”

Adora hummed her disagreement, feeling the familiar prickling of discomfort on the back of her neck. She was quite ready for this conversation to be over and was now grateful that she could use her job as an excuse to dip out of it.

She wheeled her full attention back onto the task at hand, eyes scanning the somber, candlelit faces as a quiet filled the car. As the minutes ticked by, the task was proving more and more difficult, what with the windshield fogging over and clouding their vision. Turning on the car and starting up the defrost would immediately solve the issue, but her and Bow were trying  _ not  _ to bring attention to themselves.

“I’m going to step out, get some fresh air,” Adora announced, unbuckling her seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, she pulled the hood up over her head and gently closed the door. Adora took in a long drag of the fresh air that smelled faintly of the trees. It was calming compared to the stale, cramped space inside the car. The soft rain echoing off the pavement added to the sense of tranquility. For the first time in nearly two days, Adora was feeling relaxed. That is, until Bow opened up his door and snapped her out of her happy place.

“ _ Adora _ ,” he said, voice low as he leaned over the roof of the car. He pointed to the crowd, towards a man who was watching her intently. When her gaze landed on him, he snapped his attention to the candles a few feet to his right and awkwardly started backing away into the crowd. Nothing screamed suspicious quite like that. 

Adora made brief eye contact with Bow, who nodded, before the two of them started advancing on and then through the crowd. By the time they reached the epicenter, Adora had lost sight of Bow, but was a mere few feet behind the suspect.

Adora did her best to weave through the individuals with care while maintaining her sights on the guy she was after, but she had always been a clutz at heart and accidentally collided shoulders with one of them. The woman’s candle was knocked from her hands as she yelled something close to  _ watch it!  _ and Adora silently cursed herself as the suspect turned and locked eyes with her. They widened fractionally, and then he was off, pushing his way through the masses and stirring up a commotion. That’s when Adora lost visual.

“Shit!” Adora said, giving up on trying to be gentle and shoving her way through. People were yelling and shoving right back, making it that much harder to find her way out. Eventually, she stumbled out of the crowd while a few people spewed profanities at her, spinning in circles as she tried to orient herself and spot the suspect. Bow emerged from the crowd a moment later and gave her a wild, questioning look.

“Did you see where he went?” Bow asked.

As if the heavens were answering his question, the vicious barking of a dog sounded off in the distance and they turned to the disturbance just in time to catch a figure leaping a chain link fence and disappearing around the corner of a neighboring house.

“Stop right there! Police!” Adora yelled, the two of them giving chase.

**october, sophomore year of high school: catra**

“You’re aware that football can cause chronic traumatic encephalopathy, right?” Catra chastised from the desk, watching Adora stuff her football gear into a duffel bag. She was running around in a sports bra and shorts that left little to the imagination, which made it hard for Catra to concentrate on lecturing her because everytime Adora moved, those lean muscles rippled under her smooth skin. But Catra had a reprimand to get through and she was determined to soldier on. 

Not only did football interfere with their band time, but she was also concerned about Adora’s health. She tried not to show it, but Catra did  _ not  _ like seeing Adora come home after practice or a game aching and spattered with bruises. Also, she was pretty sure Adora already had brain damage from just generally being a moron and smacking her head into things,  _ but  _ if she could prevent further damage from happening to that pretty head of hers, well… 

“I’m not kidding,” Catra insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Adora stopped digging around in her closet long enough to shoot Catra a humorous look that said  _ really? _ Catra just crossed one leg over the other and raised her chin defiantly. It was going to take more than a look to deter her.

Adora laughed and tossed her grease stick at Catra who caught it with ease, “Watch yourself, Catra. If you keep telling me to be careful, I might actually think you like me.”

“Shut up,” Catra hissed, trying to tame the heat rising to the surface of her cheeks.

Adora chuckled, “Okay.” She said it like it was the final word on the topic, but Catra was just getting started.

“Seriously though. You need to watch yourself.”

Adora pulled her football gloves out from the top drawer of her dresser and tossed them into her bag before turning to Catra with a bright smile, “See, that's the beauty of it. I have linebackers to do that for me.”

The magicat rolled her eyes, but couldn’t keep the concern from etching itself into her features nor her tail from lashing as she fiddled with the grease stick in her hands. Adora must have noticed because she pursed her lips, dropped what she was doing, and hopped up onto the desk beside her, nudging Catra’s thigh with her own. The touch was as comforting as it was electrifying.

“Catra, it’s high school football. I’m not gonna  _ die _ .” Adora good naturedly knocked her shoulder into Catra’s, but it did nothing to pull her from her funk. “Trust me Catra, I won’t let anything happen to me. I would never let you go without a friend to watch Outlander with.”

“You’re aware I don't even like that show, right?”

“Aww come on, it's  _ so  _ good.”

Catra let out an irritated groan, “You and your sappy romances. That show is  _ awful _ . Who cares about some hets fucking in 18th century Scotland?”

“Uh, I do? Come on, just think about the drama of it all. The twisted love triangle. The pining. The romantic tension…” Catra gave her a doubtful look which only spurred Adora on more. “And then in season two it’s even crazier! She has a child, but it’s not Frank’s even though she’s stuck with him now and they raise it together, but all the while she-”

Catra put a finger to her friend’s lips, successfully shutting her up, “Adora,  _ I know _ . You made me watch it with you.” 

“Oh. Right,” She said, pulling her head back from the finger on her lips. “Well that’s embarrassing.”

This time it was Catra’s turn to chuckle and she found herself looking at the blonde with something more than just humor, “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t go to the game.”

“Because… Because I’m an idiot?”

“No, because taking too many hits to the head probably made you one,” Catra stated, more than proud of herself that she was able to steer the conversation back to  _ Why Football is Bad; An Abridged List of Reasons As to Why Adora Should Quit. _ Adora seemed less pleased, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair and that’s when Catra knew that she had lost this battle.

“Catra, there’s nothing you can say that will make me miss my game. The team is counting on me and-”

“ _ Fine _ . Then go. It’s not like I actually care,” Catra spat out, not meaning a word of what she said.  _ This is what I get for trying to take care of her, _ Catra thought bitterly, ears tipping back in irritation. Adora would probably never stop getting herself into harmful situations, and in spite of herself, Catra knew she would always be there to pick her off the ground when she ate shit. But  _ fuck  _ if Adora didn’t piss her off by never listening and acting so reckless.

“Catra, I’m-” Adora started, but the magicat slid off the desk and climbed out the window with ease, leaving her with her half finished sentence and a room filled to the brim with dissent.

**september, present day: catra**

“So…” Lonnie drawled, stretching out over the expanse of the couch- Catra’s couch- and making herself comfortable. “You’ve still got it bad for Adora, huh?”

Catra hissed, baring her sharp teeth for what must have been the fiftieth time that day. She was  _ so  _ sick of Lonnie and her non-stop comments about Adora. About Adora and  _ her. _ That was all she had talked about for the past  _ two days _ and without fail, it always got a rise out of her. Catra didn’t want to fall victim to Lonnie’s torment time and time again, but the girl was just too good at pinpointing her weak spots and targeting them without a shred of decency. If Catra hadn’t offered for the rest of her band to stay at her place in order to make Adora’s life easier, she would have dumped Lonnie out on her ass long ago.

“Shut the fuck up Lonnie or I’ll do it for you,” Catra snarled, tail  _ whipping  _ behind her. After snarling at her so much, it was beginning to lose its effect.

Lonnie laughed obnoxiously, settling into the couch and throwing her leg over the back of it, “Oh, you  _ definitely  _ do.” Scratch that, it had already lost its effect.

“I don’t!”

“Guys, maybe we shouldn’t be fighting right now,” Scorpia said, nervously tapping the points of her claws together. She was thoroughly ignored.

“You know the walls are paper thin, right?” Lonnie continued, shooting Catra a wolfish grin. “At first, I thought Adam had come over, but when I heard you moaning  _ Adora’s  _ name-”

A deep growl rumbling in Catra’s chest was the only warning she gave before pouncing to rip out Lonnie’s tongue. To Lonnie’s great fortune, it was enough to attune Scorpia to what was about to happen and she wrapped her strong arms around her, holding her back.

“Ugh! Scorpia let me go!” Catra squeaked, both embarrassed and infuriated. Lonnie’s laugh reached nuclear proportions and she watched the scene unfold. The magicat pawed at Scorpia’s arms and tried to wriggle out of her grip, but it was solid and unrelenting. Next time, she would have to be quicker.

“Not until you calm down,” Scorpia chided, like she was talking to a young child throwing a fit. That metaphor wasn’t completely off.

“Somebody needs to teach her a lesson,” Catra ground out through clenched teeth, her murderous glare never wavering from its intended prey.

Lonnie sat up on the couch, laugh subsiding, and threw her hands up in surrender, “Hey look, I don't blame you Catra. Adora is  _ hot _ . Maybe even hotter than she was in high school, I mean, you saw those biceps right? Bottoming isn't really my thing but I would let her-”

“If you say one more word about Adora, I will actually kill you,” Catra threatened. No one,  _ no one, _ was allowed to talk about her like that. If it had been anyone else, they would have lost an eye in an instant. Once again, Lonnie was saved, this time by Weaver who put in the contract that Catra was not to physically maim any of the other band members.

Though Catra was sure her threat sounded scary enough, that shit eating grin never left Lonnie’s face, “I think I'll take my leave. Rogelio and Kyle were looking for me anyway. See you later  _ lover girl _ .” With that, she was gone, strolling out of the room like she wasn’t just threatened by the embodiment of rage and violence, with the claws and teeth to match.

“Will you put me down now?” Catra asked once she could no longer pierce Lonnie with her predatory gaze.

“You have to promise not to kill or maim Lonnie if I do.”

“Fine,” Catra huffed, and Scorpia’s arms loosened around her. “She is such an  _ asshole _ .”

Scorpia scratched the back of her head, “She can definitely be mean sometimes. But… she was also right.”

Catra brushed her hands down the sleeves of her shirt, trying to tame the fur underneath that she hadn’t even realized fluffed up during her heated conversation.

“What are you talking about?” Catra asked passively, running a hand through her mane.

“You're in love with Adora.” She said it with such profound certainty that there was no denying it. All the fight left Catra’s body as she heard those words out loud for the first time in her life. It was a strange grouping of words to her ears, one that was so foreign it almost sounded like another language, but the truth of them echoed inexhaustibly.

“Scorpia I-”

Scorpia held up a claw, “You don't have to say anything. I already knew. You’ve been in love with her ever since high school, even when we dated briefly. I could tell you didn’t like me like that.” Catra had actually been in love with her  _ long  _ before high school, but now wasn’t the time to correct Scorpia on that matter. Now was the time to comfort her bandmate, because she had just admitted to knowing that Catra was never in love with her and pining after someone else  _ while they were dating  _ and she was now staring at a pattern in the rug by her feet, her eyes misty and downcast.

“Look, Scorpia-” Catra tried, but she was cut off once again.

“I get it, wildcat,” Scorpia said softly and without resentment. “I just want to make sure you take care of yourself.”

Catra eyed her warily, “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Scorpia shook her head, “Catra… No you’re not, especially with Adora around. You make bad decisions and you’re volatile. And Lonnie just pointed out how possessive you are of her.”

“I am  _ not _ possessive of her.”

“Is that why you threatened to kill Lonnie just now? Look, I know you still care for her and I think she still cares about you too.” The idea of Adora still caring about her, even after everything, was enough to set off fireworks in her stomach. The idea made her so happy she wanted to kiss Scorpia for voicing it, but then she continued talking. “But she’s not the same person she was six years ago and you're not kids anymore. I just want you to be careful. And if I’m being really honest and putting it all out there… I don’t think she’s good for you.”

**october, sophomore year of high school: adora**

The game was won, 21-6, with Adora throwing the winning touchdown. She had never felt so proud of herself or her team, and with the way the crowd roared to life after their victory, it appeared they shared the same sentiment. In the locker rooms after the game, her teammates did their best to persuade her to go out with them to a celebratory party but Adora declined as politely as she could. As much as she wanted to go out, she had a far stronger pull to head home and see Catra. Leaving her alone with all that negative energy between them was still a nagging thought at the back of her mind.

When Adora arrived home, it was quiet. A half empty bottle of Boone’s Farm was sitting on the dinner table next to a wine glass. The sight of it sent a wave of relief washing over her. It meant that not only was Ms. Weaver tucked in for the night, but she also had no intentions of coaxing Adora to her bed. She never did anything with her while she was intoxicated.

Taking the stairs with caution so as not to disturb the peace, Adora found herself in her and Catra’s room. She was expecting to find Catra curled up in her bed, snoring softly beneath the sheets, or maybe sprawled out on the desk drawing little dicks in one of Lonnie’s school textbooks that she stole, just for mayhem’s sake. To her great surprise, Catra was nowhere in sight and only the gentle breeze drifting in from the open window gave any indication as to where she was.

_ She’s still out there? _ Adora thought, circling over to the window. Her suspicions were confirmed when she ducked her head through and saw her feline friend seated on the tiles of the roof, glaring out into inky black of the night, hugging her knees to her chest. The crease in her brow and the folding of her ears suggested that she was not happy. Was she still upset about their talk? Adora was determined to find out.

Adora crawled through the open window with about as much grace as a turtle that had been flipped onto its back, but in her defense, she was sore from the game and didn’t have that much finesse to begin with. Catra’s ears flicked in her direction, a clear indication that she had heard her coming (who the hell wouldn’t with the amount of noise she was making?), but otherwise did not acknowledge her.

She carefully made her way over to Catra before settling in beside her, making sure to keep at least a foot of space in between them, just in case Catra was feeling overwhelmed. She often came out here to escape the pressures of life and Adora had no desire to infringe on that.

They sat there in quiet for a while, Adora leaning back on her hands and stealing glances of Catra out of the corner of her eye. She noticed Catra had earbuds with her, one inserted in her ear, the other tucked into the front collar of her sweater.

“What are you listening to?” Adora asked gently, slowly reaching out for the earbud that was tucked into the collar, giving Catra enough time to pull away or smack her hand down if she so wanted to. When she didn’t, Adora took it as a good sign and wrangled the earbud out, fingers lightly grazing the hollow of Catra’s throat. Adora thought she heard Catra exhale breathily, but that could have been the wind.

Adora scooted a little closer so she could place the bud in her own ear and was disappointed, but not surprised, when it was Touchin, Lovin by Trey Songz.

“Wow, thats uh… that's something else,” Adora couldn’t help but comment.

“You're such a prude,” Catra shot right back, not missing a beat. Well, at least she was talking. Adora still had no idea if she was upset with her or not, but at least she was talking. There was nothing worse than the silent treatment.

“No, I just think that music is crap,” Adora countered, gently taking the earbud out.

“Sure you do.”

“Somebody’s cranky.”

“Somebody needs to shut up.” There was a sharpness to Catra’s tone that made Adora do just that.  _ Okay, so she’s definitely still upset.  _ Adora bit the inside of her cheek as she tapped out a rhythm of three’s against the roof tiles, observing her friend who refused to look at her. There were lines of tension on her forehead, her ears were drooping, and her tail twitched with the effort of trying to keep it from full on lashing. She was clearly  _ not happy _ , but Adora couldn’t figure as to why that was. There was no  _ way _ their simple conversation about football left her this tousled… right? It didn’t make any sense. There must be something else bothering her. Maybe it was one of the kids at school, or maybe-

“Why are you staring at me?” Catra asked, whipping her head over to glare at Adora.

“Because you look sad,” she answered truthfully. One of Catra’s ears flickered.

“I am not sad.”

“Okay, but then why are you out on the roof? You only come out here when there's something bothering you.”

“Maybe I wanted you to follow me out here and fall off,” Catra said, her voice raising in both volume and pitch. There was a snarl just waiting to be let free, but the look of shock on Adora’s face must have sent it into hiding because it never saw the light of day. It was instead replaced by a grimace with a hint of regret mixed in. “Okay, that was bitchy.”

“It’s alright. Is it the football thing? Is that why you're out here?”

“You make it sound so petty,” Catra mumbled.

“But that's what it is, right?”

“I-I just…” For a moment, it looked like Catra was going to say something real, something meaningful, but then the moment passed as if it had never existed at all. “I just don't want it messing with our plans.”

Ah, yes. Their plans to become at least a moderately well-known band, move to the East side of town and live the rest of their lives together in an apartment creating music and performing with their bandmates. Adora didn’t want anything messing with those plans either.

“It won’t,” Adora stated with a resounding conviction.

“You promise?”

“I  _ promise _ . I want those plans to happen just as much as-” A chiming in Adora’s pocket cut her off and she grumbled as she fished her phone from her pocket.

Hazel:  _ Heyy ;) a few friends and I were wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover? We’re celebrating your win and i wanted you to join in the fun. I can pick you up if you need me to. Lmk and no pressure ;) _

When Adora looked up from the screen, she was met with the suspicious, scrutinizing gaze of Catra, who was glaring at her once again.

“Who the  _ hell  _ is that?” she asked in a low voice, verging on a growl.

“Uhhhh… Hazel?” Adora wasn’t sure why she phrased it like a question, but she knew the defensive tone Catra took on had something to do with it.

“I can  _ read _ , Adora. I’m asking; who is she?” What Catra really meant was  _ who is she to you? _ and to be truthful, Adora wasn’t entirely certain of the answer. Hazel was a classmate, a lab partner, and most recently, a friend. There was also an attraction between them that Adora felt, and while it was nowhere near the fondness she held for Catra, it was still very real and much more attainable. However, Adora couldn’t just  _ say all that. _

So she settled on: “She’s a friend. She’s my lab partner in A and P.” Catra watched her with a guarded caution, plainly discontented with the information. Whether she didn’t believe she was telling her everything or she just didn’t like what Adora had said in the first place was a toss up.

“Are you really going to ditch me for  _ her _ ?” Catra asked, spitting out the last word like it was devilspawn. Adora never wanted to ditch Catra,  _ never, _ but right now she was in a  _ mood _ and it was no fun hanging out with the magicat when she was angry and wouldn’t even  _ try  _ to get through it.

“No, I would never,” Adora said without hesitation. And then, a little quieter, “But I do want to go.” She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “You could come with me! They’re all really nice people, I’m sure they’d love to-”

Catra laughed but it was completely devoid of warmth, “Are you fucking kidding me?” There it was. That question again. Adora was, once more, in hostile territory with no idea how she got there. 

She was not in Kansas anymore. Adora was really starting to feel like Dorothy at the moment; she couldn’t tell her ass from a hole in the ground. What did Dorothy do again? That’s right. She went looking for the Wizard of Oz to solve all her problems. Well, there was no fancy wizard around to help Adora out of this situation. She was going to have to barrel through it herself. And to be completely honest, Adora’s own patience was wearing thin. She rarely got angry with Catra, but she was well on her way.

“Which part are you confused about exactly?” Adora asked, voice clipped.

“The part where you think I would even  _ consider  _ doing any of that.”

“ _ Now _ you sound petty. They're a great group of people. If you just gave them a chance-”

Catra scoffed. Then her eyes turned dark. “Don't you get it, Adora? I don't want to give them a chance. I think it's all bullshit. You're wasting your time.”

Adora’s jaw was, metaphorically, on the floor. Physically, it was clenched impossibly tight in… anger? Shock? Resentment? She couldn't place the feeling. All she knew was that it was a negative feeling and it was boiling up inside of her, demanding to explode.

“You sound just like Weaver,” Adora almost sneered. It was a bad look on her.

Something akin to hurt festered in Catra’s eyes for a split second and that’s when Adora felt guilt claw at her stomach. It was a low blow and she immediately regretted it. Catra was nothing like Weaver. She may be aggressive and quite open with her bitterness sometimes (okay, most of the time), but she wasn’t  _ cruel _ . She didn’t hurt people just because she could, or because they forgot to make their bed in the morning. She didn’t force people to- to-

Adora reached out to grab Catra but she was already to the window, angrily shoving it open.

“Wait!” Adora practically begged, reaching for her. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean that.” Catra gave her one last look that was so full of blinding hurt, Adora could hardly bear it.

“Have fun with your new friends,” Catra said, voice full of emotion and cracking towards the end.

She closed the window followed shortly by the blinds. Adora may have chronic foot-in-mouth disease accompanied with a poor record of reading social cues, but she knew better than to try and get back in the house that way. With a sigh she texted a quick  _ yes, please _ to Hazel. 

Immediately those three dots popped up and her reply was instant. 

Hazel:  _ Great :) Do you need us to pick you up? _

_ Yes, _ Adora replied, and sent her address to the chat.

Hazel gave her the thumbs up emoji accompanied with a  _ be there in a hot sec :) _

“Great,” Adora said to herself. She gave one last glance back at the window, hoping to see something, anything. 

There was nothing. The lights weren’t even on. She was tempted to crawl over and put her ear to the glass to see if she could hear anything but quickly decided against that.

Resigned to her fate, she shimmied down the now chilled tiles to the edge of the roof. It wasn’t that far of a drop to the ground. If Catra really had wanted her to fall off, she would have sustained minor injuries. This thought comforted Adora as she swung herself down off the roof and landed on the driveway with a small stumble. She dusted off her hands and headed through the garage. Now that her and Catra were at DEFCON 1, she was more than grateful for the opportunity to get out of that house.

**september, present day: adora**

Adora threw herself over the chainlink fence, Bow following close behind as the rain picked up and pelted them hard, making their clothes cling to them.

“Stop right there!” Bow yelled, pulling his gun from the holster as they turned the corner of the house and found him sprinting through a backyard and then out into the street. He wasn’t going to stop. He was going to make them work for it.

“Looks like we’re in it for the long haul,” Adora panted as the two of them put on a burst of speed to catch up.

Giving chase wasn’t like it was in the movies. The protagonists of the film always looked so heroic, sexy, and appeared to always be in command of the situation. Reality was far removed from that pretty little version. Adora did not feel in control of the situation  _ at all _ . In fact, it was all she could do to stay on her feet with the ground becoming a muddy disaster and her leg throbbing with a horrid pain that protested with every pounding step she took. In hindsight, she really should have stretched it out in preparation for something like this happening. Oh well. Too late now.

Taking a corner too fast, Adora’s bad leg faltered and she slipped, drenching the left side of her body in wet leaves and a generous amount of mud. She let out a noise of disgust, wiping away some of the silt from her face. Bow was at her side immediately, heaving her to her feet.

“Where did he go?” Adora asked with a grimace, trying to clean the burning debris from her eye with the palm of her hand.

Bow shook his head and whispered  _ I don’t know _ , eyes darting all around, trying to locate their suspect. Once Adora was standing on her feet he let her go and flicked the safety off his gun, taking cautious steps forward.

With her one good eye, Adora saw that they had come up upon a vast forest nestled behind the row of houses they had just chased the suspect through. The tall trees rose far above the houses and loomed over them like ominous omens of death, seemingly absorbing all the light and crushing it under the weight of their collective mass. It was impossible to see beyond the first few trunks of the forest, but Adora knew in her gut that he was in there.

Ignoring the burning in her eye and the quiet protests from Bow, she inched closer to the woods, straining to hear anything above the pattering of rain- perhaps the heaving sound of the man gulping down air, or the telltale sign of footfalls on the forest floor. When she heard nothing, she turned her attention on Bow.

“Bow, call in a patrol to sweep-”

Then, without warning, a body was flying at her and she was barely able to get out a yelp before she was tackled to the ground. While fumbling blindly for purchase on the man’s jacket, a bright bolt of pain spiked in her face and it took a half second for her to realize that he had just punched her.

“Adora!” She heard Bow yell before she got a foot in between their bodies and kicked  _ hard. _ That seemed to do the trick because he let out a sharp cry and keeled over beside her. Though half blind, Adora was on him in an instant, forcing him onto his stomach and wretching his arms back, cuffing his hands. Then she bent down over him, breathing hard from the excursion, to whisper in his ear.

“If you move a muscle, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in you,” she growled out. 

“If I didn’t know any better officer, I’d say you’re making a threat,” the man said, craning his neck to look back at her. There was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Adora was startled by his voice. It sounded so young, infantile even, and it did not fit the tall, lean body of the man it belonged to.

Shaking out of her state of mild shock, Adora narrowed her eye at him, “Well do you?”

“What?”

“Do you know better?”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond, pulling away and stumbling to her feet. Bow was right behind her, strong hands on her arms to stabilize her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.

Adora nodded, “Yeah. Can you read him his rights while I call Glimmer? We’re gonna need the car.”

She sniffed and wiped a hand under her nose as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Her knuckles came away bloody and she stared down at it confused. Then it registered: she had been punched in the face. Gingerly, she pressed on the bridge of her nose and it lit up with pain. Adora let out a frustrated groan.  _ Great. Just great. It better not be broken. _

**october, sophomore year of high school: catra**

After Adora left for the sleepover, Catra cried. She cried hard, screaming into her pillow to stifle the sounds. She cried until she literally couldn't cry anymore, until she couldn't produce any more tears, until her throat was dry and raw from sobbing.

It was hard to hear the truth from someone she actually cared about. From practically the only person she cared about. Adora. 

_ You sound just like Weaver.  _

Everytime that moment replayed in her head, she sobbed louder. And what made everything worse was that she had left after. To be with her  _ other  _ friends. To leave her alone with her guilt. Catra knew she deserved it. What had slipped from her mouth was awful, no matter how true it was to her. She knew it the second Adora’s jaw had welded itself shut and anger flashed in those ocean blue eyes. 

It was rare to see her angry. Catra had expected tears. She got rage instead. Sure, Adora had apologized for the outburst immediately after, but what did that change?

Nothing. It changed nothing and it didn’t stop Catra from clutching her phone to her chest, checking her messages every other minute, waiting for Adora to say…  _ something _ . Anything at all. So that she could apologize like she should have as soon as she told Adora that she was wasting her time. She never apologized,  _ never _ , but just this once  _ for Adora _ she could bite the bullet. 

All she needed was a message. 

A message never came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that scene about Outlander? That's a surprise tool that will help us later on :)

**Author's Note:**

> So..... let me know what you think! I love getting kudos and comments, but if you'd rather just send your thoughts to me via telekinesis that's amazing too!


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